LBATELQS 


•-    - 


His  PRIVATE 


ALBERT  ROSS 


BOOK  STORK 

14O  PACIFIC 
LONG  BKACh 


'HIS 

PRIVATE  CHARACTER, 


BY  ALBERT  ROSS, 

AUTHOR    OF 

THOU      SHALT    NOT,"     "SPEAKING    OF    ELLEN, 

"  In  STELLA'S  SHADOW,"  «  WHY  I'M  SINGLE," 

"HER  HUSBAND'S  FRIEND,"  ETC. 


you  lying  in  his  arms,"  said 
the  witch,  peering  into  the  translucent 
stone.  "I  see  you  lying  on  his  bed" 

"  In  life  and  death  r  faltered  Cora, 
handing  her  the  money. 

"In  life  and  death,"  repeated  tk* 
solemnly.  —  Page  65. 


NEW  YORK: 

•»•          «W»WQW.'»«»,ir«.w.tatwwiMt 

W.    Dillingham     Co.,   Publishers. 
[Allrightsreserve&l 


CONTENTS. 


L  "  He's  rich,  that's  the  mara  thing."      .      7 
II.  "  Love  !  what  is  Love  ?"  »$ 

III.  One  way  to  enter  Harvard.    .        .        -37 

IV.  A  midnight  compact 45 

V.  "  How  did  you  live  in  Brazil  ?"      .        .     52 

VI.  Three  is  a  crowd 66 

VII.  "  I  prefer  the  sofa,"  he  said.          .        .     73 

VIII.  Jessie  makes  a  shrewd  guess.        .        .     82 

IX.  Shooting  Bears  at  Cambridge,  Mass.    .     91 

X.  Amateur  photography 98 

XI.  "  How  innocent  she  looks  there  asleep  !"  tod 
XII.  Cora  goes  buggy  riding.         .        .         .  11$ 

XIII.  Mr.  Johnson,  the  lawyer.        .        ,        .  iaj 

XIV,  A  few  weeks  at  Swampscott.         .        .  133 
XV.  "  My  husband  has  never  asked."  .        .  144 

XVI.  Mrs.  Ashleigh  takes  rooms.  .        .  15* 

XVII.  "  I'm  very  sorry,  if  you  really  mean  it."  160 

XVIII.  "  Mamma,  do  you  wish  me  to  marry  ?"  169 

XIX.  "  Turn  te  tum-i-ty,  turn  te  turn  !"  .        .  i&» 

XX  The  wedding  ring 191 

XXI.  "It  is  Fate," 199 

[ffi] 

2061972 


XXII.  Lulu  and  Claude 107 

XXIII.  One  kind  of  matrimony.      .        .  ti4 

XXTV.  "And  shall  you  r a»i 

XXV.  Duties  of  maternity  take  precedence        229 , 
XXVI.  Captain    Hawkins,    of    the    Engineer 

Corps. 236 

XXVII.  "As  a  mother  it  is  a  very  different  thing."  245 

XXVIII.  Some  say  it  was  a  cyclone.     .        .  259 

XXIX.  Where  Wenona  leaped  to  death,  .        .271 

XXX.  "One  kiss  before  you  go!"    .        .        .279 

XXXI.  Who  paid  that  $10,000  ?         .        .        .289 

XXXII.  Dr.  Elton  peruses  documents.        .        .  298 

XXXIII.  "If  it  were  not  for  Lulu  I  could  lore 

her." 306 

XXXIV.  Belle  and  Lulu  exchange  presents.       .314 
XXXV.  Mrs.  Wilkins  makes  trouble.          .        .  323 

XXXVI.  Cora  strikes  with  a  sharp  weapon.  .  331 
XXXVII.  "  I  mean  to  touch  Jack  Bltca's  heart."  .  339 
XXXVIII  Cleopatra. 336 

XXXIX.  In  life  and  de&th. 355 

XL.  Behind  the  portiew*,  .  .  .  .  j*3 


TO    MY    READERS, 


When  it  beet  me  evident,  (within  three  months  of 
iits  publication)  ;hat  my  novel  entitled  "Thou  Shalt 
Not"  would  achieve  a  circulation  larger  than  that  ever 
attained  by  any  anonymous  piece  of  American  fiction, 
my  publisher  asked  me  to  do  two  things  :  First,  to 
allow  him  to  use  my  name  in  the  later  editions  ;  and 
second,  to  give  him  the  manuscript  of  another  book  as 
soon  as  possible. 

I  hesitated  to  comply  with  his  request.  "Thou 
Shalt  Not"  had  been  written  with  the  intention  of  con- 
veying a  great  moral  lesson.  It  was  meant  to  show 
that  measure  for  measure  may  be  meted  to  men  of 
unchaste  lives  ;  that  no  man  who  laughs  at  the  virtue 
of  women  should  expect  the  serpent  to  avoid  his  own 
hearthstone.  But  I  socn  saw  that  certain  reviewer*, 
running  through  a  few  of  its  pages  at  hap-hazard, 
were  giving  the  public  a  totally  erroneous  opinion  of 
its  character.  I  found  myself  accused  of  impro- 
prieties. The  dark  background  to  my  picture  was 
paraded  as  the  picture  itself.  Hector  Greyburn's  early 
sins  were  dilated  upon  and  his  temole  punishment 
Ignored.  The  stainless  purity  of  Clara  Campbell,  the 

M 


heroic  life  and  death  of  Lena,  the  r.gid  morality  of 
John  Binsmore,  were  forgotten. 

There  were  honorable  exceptions,  however.  There 
were  reviewers  who  saw  what  I  had  tried  to  do  and 
gave  me  full  credit  therefor.  They  perceived  that 
(<  Thou  Shalt  Not"  was  a  tragedy,  designed  to  impress 
in  the  strongest  manner  the  heinousness  of  violating 
the  Seventh  Command,  and  one  of  them  said  :  "  When 
ten  thousand  platforms  are  devoted  to  decrying  the 
abuse  of  the  wine-cup  ;  when  a  hundred  thousand 
pulpit  voices  are  raised  in  protest  against  the  growing 
desecration  of  the  Sabbath — may  not  one  little  book 
be  permitted  to  point  plainly  to  the  blasting  path  of 
the  adulterer  ?" 

So  I  read  what  the  various  critics  wrote  and  saw 
how  widely  their  opinions  varied  ;  and  I  told  my  pub- 
lisher he  might  use  my  name  and  gave  him  another 
story.  I  called  the  new  book  "  His  Private  Character," 
and  here  you  have  it. 

Though  written  with  more  circumspect  language 
and  with  a  less  bold  hand,  (the subject  did  not  require 
it)  "His  Private  Character"  has  its  lesson  also.  I 
pity  the  man  or  woman  who  can  read  these  pages  from 
beginning  to  end  and  not  find  it. 

ALBERT  ROSS. 
Address  : 

No.  119  West  ajd  Street,   « 
New  York  City. 


HIS  PRIVATE  CHARACTER. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"HI'S  RICK,  THAT'S  THE  MAIN  THIWO," 

"What  is  His  Private  Character?" 

Having  uttered  this  question,  Mrs.  Henry  Madisos 
leaned  back  in  her  armchair  with  the  air  of  one  who 
had  performed  an  important  duty  and  waited  for  her 
young  friend,  Miss  Isabelle  Vaughan,  to  reply. 

"His  Private  Character!"  echoed  Miss  Vaughan 
"How  in  the  name  of  goodness  should  I  know? 
There  is  a  question  of  far  greater  moment,  it  seems  te 
me — '  How  much  money  is  he  worth  ?' — and  that,  within 
a  reasonable  margin,  I  can  tell  you.  As  for  Claude'i 
Private  Character,  most  likely  it  is  like  that  of  other 
men,  which  means  that  the  less  you  investigate  it  th« 
happier  you  will  be.  '  Private  Character,'  indeed  * 
What  have  the  men  of  to-day  to  do  with  suc> 
things  !» 

Miss  Vaughan  made  a  pretty  picture,  as  she  sat 
there  in  Mrs.  Madison's  sitting-room  She  was  a  pro 
•ounced  blonde  of  perhaps  one-and-twenty  summers. 

rn 


I  *  raft  *IOH,  THAT'S  THE  MABT 

of  good  height  and  with  one  of  those  well-rounded 
figures  which  would  better  please  did  they  not  arouse 
fears  of  too  great  avoirdupois  in  the  distant  future 
At  present  she  was  as  nearly  perfect  a  Hebe  as  it  it 
possible  to  imagine.  Her  mass  of  straw-tinted  hair 
was  arranged  in  a  manner  that  would  have  become  a 
queen.  Her  head  was  poised  grandly  on  her  shapely 
aeck.  She  had  a  bright  color  thai  was  all  her  own, 
and  her  excessive  vivacity  became  her  well. 

Mrs.  Madison  was  a  widow  of  about  forty  years  of 
age,  who  might  once  have  been  beautiful,  but  who  now 
seemed  to  feel  the  cares  of  life  too  heavily  to  mind  the 
deep  furrows  which  time  had  hastened  to  place  in  the 
lines  of  her  pale  countenance.  She  had  a  certain  air  of 
matronly  dignity,  as  one  who  had  seen  better  days, 
and  could  rise,  in  thought  at  least,  above  the  misfor- 
tunes of  recent  years.  The  house  which  she  occupied 
was  situated  within  pistol  shot  of  Harvard  College,  in 
the  city  of  Cambridge.  It  was  a  comfortable,  old- 
fashioned  structure,  set  back  from  the  street,  and 
almost  hidden  from  the  gaze  of  pedestrians  by  the 
shade  trees  and  very  tall  hedge  which  bordered  the 
sidewalk.  Her  support  came  almost  wholly  from  the 
letting  of  rooms  to  students,  from  which  source  she 
managed  to  support,  in  a  modest  manner,  herself  and 
ler  two  daughters.  She  listened  with  much  interest 
to  Miss  Vaughan's  rejoinder,  and  then  said  : 

"  He  is  rich,  then  ?" 

"You  may  set  that  down  as  assured  when  I  have 
promised  to  marry  him,"  smiled  the  young  lady. 
"  His  grandfather  was  one  of  those  Lowell  mill  owners 
who  made  such  a  pile  of  money  fifty  years  or  so  ago 
He  left  it  all  to  Claude  when  he  was  a  baby  -that  ia, 
to  his  guardians,  of  eours«— and  it  has  kept  oc  grow- 


BICSr,   TMLft  TTSI  KAflr  THX1W.*  t 

*a«y  and  growing,  as  such  fortunes  do.  Oh,  yes,  Clan  do 
is  rich  enough  ;  but  as  for  his  Character,  that's  quite 
aaother  thing.  I  haven't  got  as  far  as  that  yet" 

The  speaker  paused  and  looked  contentedly  at  her 
companion.  If  the  troubles  of  this  world  had  mad« 
much  impression  on  her  young  life  there  was  no  out- 
ward evidence  of  it.  A  big  yellow  cat  which  sat 
sleepily  on  the  window  seat,  a  few  yards  away,  seemed 
quite  as  much  worried  by  either  past  or  present  as  she. 
Yet  this  young  lady  had  a  history  which  would  make 
the  foundation  of  a  romance.  An  air  of  mystery  per- 
vaded her  life,  which  no  one  seemed  able  to  penetrate. 
She  had  her  moods,  too,  and  the  Isabelle  Vaughan  of 
one  of  them  seemed  very  little  like  the  Isabelle 
Vaughan  of  another. 

Mrs.  Madison  had  known  her  when  a  child.  Her 
father,  Captain  Arthur  Vaughan,  was  a  Cambridge 
man,  and  when  her  mother  died  Mrs.  Madison  saw 
much  of  the  pretty  little  orphan  girl,  until  the  captain 
took  her  out  to  South  America,  whence  he  never  re- 
turned. One  of  the  first  things  Belle  did,  after  com- 
ing back  a  grown  young  lady,  was  to  seek  out  Mrs. 
Madison's  house.  The  old  friendship  was  renewed  and, 
as  is  often  the  case,  it  gained  strength  from  the  fact 
that  the  two  ladies  were  so  totally  dissimilar,  as  well 
as  from  other  causes  which  will  appear  later  on. 

"I  am  glad,  indeed,  Belle,  that  you  are  to  be  so 
happy,"  said  the  widow.  "  Money  is  not  a  thing  to  be 
despised,  and  those  who  pretend  to  so  consider  it  art 
only  striving  for  effect.  I  have  often  felt  the  need  of 
!.t  since  my  husband  died,  partly  for  myself,  but  much 
aiore  for  Cora  and  Jessie.  Money  will  do  a  great  deal 
to  make  life  pleasant,  but  the  first  requisite  in  a  mat- 
'  rimonial  partner  should  be  Private  Character.  Y«m 


10          "  art  WOT,  murt  not  JULES 

cannot  comprehend  this  fully,  Belle;  you  are  fa* 
young.  You  remember  Henry.  There  were  thing* 
about  him  which  I  could  have  wished  different,  but  ae 
one  ever  impeached  his  Private  Character.  When  th« 
bank  officials  found  that  he  had  fled,  with  the  books  in 
such  bad  shape  and  thirty  thousand  dollars  gone,  it  was 
a  blow  to  me.  The  news  which  followed  so  soon  of  his 
death  abroad  was  very  hard  to  bear.  My  only  consola- 
tion in  my  distress  was  the  reflection  that,  whatever 
he  might  have  done,  his  Private  Character  was  untar- 
nished." 

There  was  a  momentary  suspicion  of  amusement 
in  Miss  Vaughan's  deep  blue  eyes,  but  she  mastered  it 
before  it  attracted  her  friend's  attention,  and  said  : 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  can't  agree  with  you.  If  try 
husband  should  ever  run  away,  he  might  take  all  the 
women  in  America  with  him  for  all  of  me.  But  if  he 
forgot  to  leave  me  a  handsome  pile  of  cash,  I'd  never 
forgive  him,  never!  I  have  Claude  all  right  on  that 
score  in  advance.  The  day  we  are  married  he  is  to 
give  me  fifty  thousand  dollars.  That'll  make  a  sure 
foundation  for  me  in  case  anything  should  happen. 
Ah  !  Mrs.  Madison,  if  every  husband  would  do  as 
well,  how  much  more  married  happiness  there  would 
be!" 

Miss  Vaughan  laughed  at  her  own  pleasantry  and 
the  elder  lady's  features  relaxed  a  little. 

"  And  you  have  been  engaged  for  mere  than  a 
year,"  said  Mrs.  Madison. 

"  Yes,  and  I  would  make  it  ten  if  I  could—that  is, 
if  1  dared — for  he  might  have  heart  disease  and  go  off 
suddenly.  I  could  get  him  to  give  me  the  money  now, 
but  that  would  have  a  disagreeable  look.  I  think 
Claude  would  wait  for  me  a  century,  if  I  compelled 


MS'I  MOB,   THAT'S  TUB  MADT   THEM."  11 


Sum  to.    Talk  about  infatuation!      Why,  you 
heard  of  such  a  case  as  his  in  your  life!" 

"Tell  me  all  about  it,"  said  Mrs.  Madison,  moYing 
her  chair  an  inch  closer.  "  Tell  me  everything.  Belle  ; 
I  want  the  whole  truth." 

Miss  Vaughan  colored  a  little  and  waited  some 
seconds  before  replying.  Then  she  said: 

"  Well,  I  will,  for  I  know  what  I  tell  you  will  go  no 
further,  and  I  really  should  like  to  tell  some  one.  You 
won't  judge  me  harshly,  I'm  sure,  for  you've  known 
me  ever  since  I  was  smaller  than  Jessie  and  I've 
always  regarded  you  just  like  a  mother.  But,  really, 
I  fear  my  story  will  shock  even  you." 

She  paused. 

M  The  telling  of  it  can  do  no  harm,"  said  the  other 
lady,  evidently  feeling  the  curiosity,  for  which  her  sex 
is  noted,  becoming  stronger.  "  If  you  have  done  any- 
thing imprudent  I  may  be  able  to  advise  you  and  pre- 
vent its  repetition." 

The  young  lady  laughed  silently  and  gave  her 
companion  a  sly  look. 

"  Well,  here  it  is,"  she  began.  "  At  Newport,  last 
summer,  1  was  introduced  to  him  for  the  first  time. 
There  was  a  yachting  party,  and  I  had  on  the  stun- 
aingest  suit  imaginable.  A  yachting  costume  just 
iets  me  off,  and  I  knew  the  minute  I  glanced  around 
the  boat  that  I  had  no  riva.  there.  I  noticed  Claude 
standing  with  the  skipper,  who  seemed  to  know  him 
•rell,  and  as  he  was  by  far  the  best  looking  man 
aboaid,  I  assed  an  elderly  gentleman,  in  a  quiet  way, 
who  he  was.  'Why,  that's  Claude  Wyllis,'  he  replied, 
*  oue  of  the  best  fellows  as  well  as  richest  here  this 
season.  Let  me  present  you.'  It  was  an  inspiratioa. 


IS         "  HI'S  Kicfi,  THAT'I  TXX  KABI  TKTJM.* 

Mrs.  Mcdison,  that  led  me  to  decline  that  old  mam's 
offer." 

Mrs.  Madison  looked  much  puzzled. 

"  You  declined  to  be  introduced  ?" 

"  Right  the  first  time,"  said  Miss  Vaughaa,  M  tt  I 
hadn't  declined,  I  should  never  have  been  to-day  the 
blushing  fiancee  that  you  see  before  you." 

Mrs.  Madison  shook  her  head.  "  Your  riddles  are 
too  hard  for  me,  Belle." 

"  Did  you  ever  catch  bluefish  from  a  boat  under 
full  sail  ?"  asked  the  young  lady. 

"  Bluefish  ?" 

"  Yes.  You  cast  out  your  line  with  a  spoon-hook 
and  scud  as  fast  as  you  can  through  the  waves.  The 
bluefish  see  the  shining  thing ;  they  dive  for  it  aad 
swallow  it — bait,  hook,  spoon  and  all !" 

"  Well  ?" 

"  I  was  the  spoon-hook,  and  Claude  the  bluefish— 
seer 

Mrs.  Madison  caught  a  short  breath,  and  said  : 
u  Ah !" 

"  I  thought  you  would.  Claude  saw  I  did  not 
want  an  introduction  and  that  made  him  all  the 
more  anxious  to  get  one.  He  got  the  ear  of  the  old 
gentleman  to  whom  I  had  spoken  of  him.  I  couldn't 
hear  them,  but  I  knew  exactly  what  they  were  saying 
though  I  had  my  eyes  on  a  ship  a  mile  away  all  tht 
time.  '  Who  is  that  pretty  girl  ?'  asked  Mr.  Claude 
I'm  not  vain,  but  I'm  not  a  fool,  either,  and  I've 
looked  in  the  glass.  I  know  he  said  '  pretty.'  Them 
the  old  man  answered,  '  Her  name  is  Vaughan,  aad 
she  is  staying  with  the  Mitchells  at  their  cottage.' 
Then  they  waited  a  minute.  Then  Mr.  Claude  said, 
'Introduce  me,'  and  the  old  man— bless  his  heart  !-^» 


**'  Ml'*   KIOH,    THAT  8   THi   MAIM    TKEfft."  18 

replied,  '  I  can't ;  she  has  declined  it  already/  At  this 
Mr.  Claude  opened  his  big  eyes  and  was  disposed  to 
get  angry  Then,  for  a  little  while,  he  affected  not 
to  care.  And  then — then — he  made  up  his  contrary 
masculine  mind  that  he  would  make  my  acquaintance, 
whether  I  liked  it  or  no,  and  see  what  sort  of  young 
woman  it  was  who  had  given  him  the  first  snub  of  his 
dainty  life." 

Miss  Vaughan  stopped  to  take  breath,  and  looked 
triumphantly  at  her  interested  listener. 

"  Shall  I  go  on  ?"  she  asked.  "  Or  shall  I  continue 
this  narrative  the  next  time  I  come  over  ?  I  shall 
have  to  stop  and  think  up  some  of  it  before  I  can 
make  a  connected  story.  It's  more  than  a  year  since 
it  happened,  you  know." 

"  Go  on,  by  all  means,"  said  Mrs.  Madison.  "  I  am 
quite  entertained." 

"  Well,  that  very  evening,  after  dinner,  I  strolled 
out — totally  unconscious  of  any  other  person's  exist- 
ence, you  understand — and  took  my  way  idly  along 
the  sand.  There  was  a  brisk  breeze  blowing  and  I 
could  only  keep  my  hat  on  by  holding  to  the  ribbons. 
My  front  hair  blew  around  my  face  and  my  dress  was 
nearly  unmanageable.  There  came  a  terrible  moment 
wiien  I  felt  my  skirts  inflating,  and  I  had  to  choose 
quickly  between  two  evils,  so  I  let  go  of  my  hat  and 
iway  it  sailed  through  the  air.  A  gentleman,  strolling 
some  rods  behind,  caught  it  as  deftly  as  the  best 
league  catcher  could  have  caught  a  ball,  and  hastened 
to  bring  it  to  me.  You  never  could  guess  who." 

'  Not—'  began  Mrs.  Madison. 

"  But,  odd  as  it  seems,  it  was.  I  had  secured  con- 
trol of  my  skirts  by  the  time  he  came  up  and  was  able 
to  take  my  hat,  place  it  on  my  head  and  thank  him  in 


14         M  n*i  EIOM,  THAT'I  TH*  KADI  TVUM." 

a  cold,  formal  manner.  I  tied  the  strings  tightly 
under  my  chin  this  time,  as  I  had  no  further  use  for  a 
flying  hat,  and  started  on  my  way.  But  another  gust 
came  along  at  that  exact  moment — you  never  saw 
such  a  gust ! — 1  thought  I  should  go  up  in  the  air  like 
an  inflated  balloon.  It  was  terrible  !  My  face  was 
enveloped  in  my  dress  skirt  in  a  second,  so  I  never  can 
testify  from  actual  knowledge  the  extent  of  the  ruin, 
but  it  was  enough.  And  that  terrible  man  caught  my 
dress  and  pulled  it  down,  just  as  if  it  was  any  of  his 
business.  And  the  first  thing  I  saw,  when  my  burning 
face  was  restored  to  the  light,  was  his  royal  highness, 
bowing  profoundly  and  hoping  I  was  now  quite  able 
to  proceed  on  my  way.  Can  you  conceive  of  anything 
more  annoying  ?" 

"  It  was,  indeed,"  admitted  Mrs.  Madison.  "  What 
did  you  do?" 

"  What  did  I  do  ?  I  turned  on  that  man  with  all 
the  sternness  I  could  muster,  stamped  my  foot  on  the 
ground  and  said  :  '  I  believe  you  did  that  on  pur- 
pose.' 

"'You're  quite  right,'  he  replied,  saucily.  'I 
brought  the  wind-squall  along  here  just  at  the 
moment  I  knew  you  were  coming.  I  did  it,  I  admit ; 
but,  if  you'll  forgive  me,  I'll  never  do  it  again.' 

"  Now,  what  could  one  say  to  a  man  like  that  r" 

The  face  of  a  beautiful  child  of  ten  years  peeped 
la  at  the  doorway  at  this  juncture.  She  had  heavy 
dark  hair  hanging  loosely  about  her  head  in  half- 
taagled  masses. 

"I  only  want  Tabby,  mamma,"  she  said,  going  to 
toe  window  and  taking  the  big  cat  in  her  arms.  "We 
are  playing  school  and  there  aren't  scholars  enough, 
We  want  Tabby  to  sit  in  one  of  the  chain. M 


KIGH,    THAT'S   THX   MATJT   THDTO."  It 

The  last  explanation  was  made  for  Miss  Vaughan 'i 
benefit  and  that  young  lady  signified  her  approval  at 
the  scheme  by  a  smile  and  nod. 

"  You're  going  to  stay  to  dinner  ?"  continued  iht 
child,  interrogatively,  as  she  held  the  door  ajar. 
**  'Cause  Cora  would  be  very  much  disappointed  if  you 
didn't" 

"  Yes,  Jessie,"  said  Mrs.  Madison,  speaking  for  her 
visitor.  "  Belle  will  surely  be  here  to  dinner.  She  is 
going  to  stay  several  days.  Run  along  now ;  we  are 
very  busy  with  our  conversation." 

The  child  hesitated  a  moment  longer. 

"  Something  little  girls  shouldn't  hear,  I  s'pose," 
she  said,  wisely.  "  It's  always  the  way.  I  shall  be  s0 
glad  when  I  am  big  enough  to  hear  everything  !" 

She  trudged  off  with  the  cat  and  Miss  Vaughan 
proceeded  : 

"  What  a  lovely  child  Jessie  is  !  Let  me  see,  where 
was  I  ?  Oh,  yes  !  Well,  I  drew  myself  up  with  what 
dignity  I  could  command — for  I  still  had  a  wholesome 
fear  of  what  the  next  gust  might  do — and  I  said,  in 
withering  tones  (only  they  didn't  seem  to  wither  him 
at  all),  '  You  are  very  impertinent,  sir  ;  I  wish  you  a 
good  evening !'  Then  I  marched  off  home  without 
looking  around  and,  as  luck  would  have  it,  without 
further  accident." 

Mrs.  Madison  waited  for  her  guest  to  proceed, 
seeming  qui'.e  absorbed  in  the  story  she  was  hearing. 

"  If  you  can  conceive  of  anything  more  inauspicious 
than  that  in  the  way  of  making  an  acquaintance,"  con- 
tinued Miss  Vaughan,  "I  would  like  to  know  it  I  hid 
in  the  house  for  three  days,  overcome  with  the  occur- 
rence, and  then  only  ventured  out  guardedly.  But  Mr. 
Claude  was  not  the  sort  of  youth  to  be  discouraged  by 


16         "  itri  *ICH,  THAT'S  TKB  MAZH  T*nre." 

little  things.  He  happened,  as  it  turned  out,  to  know 
Colonel  Mitchell,  and  it  was  easy  enough  to  get  asked 
up  to  the  cottage.  One  day  I  walked  out  on  the 
piazza  and  came  squarely  upon  him  and  the  colonel, 
where  there  was  no  escape.  '  Belle,  this  is  Mr,  Claud* 
Wyllis,— Mr.  Wyllis,  Miss  Vaughan,'— and  it  was 
done. 

"  Claude  bore  himself  remarkably  well  at  that  time. 
As  for  me,  I  must  have  looked  like  a  red,  red  rose. 
The  good  colonel  saw  nothing — these  ancient  military 
men  never  do — and  the  usual  commonplaces  followed. 
In  a  few  minutes  a  messenger  came  post-haste  for  him 
and  he  excused  himself  in  the  briefest  manner. 

"  '  Mr.  Wyllis,'  said  he,  '  Miss  Vaughan  will  enter- 
tain you,  I'm  sure,  till  my  return.  I  sha'n't  be  over  an 
hour,'  and  off  he  flew.  I  looked  rather  helplessly 
after  him  and  then,  as  there  seemed  no  remedy,  took  a 
chair  and  sat  looking  at  the  sea  for  the  next  ten  min- 
utes without  a  word." 

"Goodness,  Belle!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Madison. 
'  How  could  you  !" 

"  How  could  I  do  otherwise  ?  He  had  no  right  to 
*>e  there  at  all.  He  should  have  relieved  my  embar- 
rassment by  taking  himself  out  of  the  way.  I  gave 
him  ten  minutes  to  do  it  and  that  ten  minutes  cost 
him  his  freedom  for  life.  I  didn't  loci  as  if  I  was 
thinking  of  anything  in  particular  as  I  sat  there  with 
my  eyes  on  the  ocean,  but  I  was  maturing  a  plan  and 
I  carried  it  out  to  the  letter." 

"  A  plan  ?" 

"  Yes,  A  plan  to  make  that  saucy  fellow  come  to  mo 
oa  his  knees.  I  knew  he  was  laughing  at  ane  every 
minute  and  I  object  of  all  things  to  being  ridiculed. 


"  n'f  *ica,  THAT'I  THE  UAIS  THHST«."         11 

Finally  I  turned  my  chair  about  and  looked  him  full 
in  the  eyes.  Yes,  he  was  laughing,  just  as  I  suspected, 

*  'Colonel  Mitchell  spoke  the  truth,'  he  said,  in 
response  to  my  scowling  look.  '  He  said  you  would 
Entertain  me  ;  and  you  do — immensely.' 

"  *  Indeed  !  That  is  much  more  than  you  do  lot 
me  r  I  answered,  defiantly. 

"  At  that  he  burst  out  laughing  and  I  felt  the  wrin- 
kles disappearing,  in  spite  of  all  I  could  do. 

"  '  Come,'  he  said,  holding  out  his  hand.  '  Let's  be 
friends.  Why  we've  got  to  !  There  are  reasons  !' 

"  I  could  have  swept  into  the  house  and  left  him> 
but  that  would  not  have  sufficed. 

" '  You  were  on  the  yacht  the  other  day,'  he  pursued, 
'  and  you  avoided  me.  We  walked  on  the  shore  and 
the  wind  championed  my  cause.  I  came  to  this  piazza 
and  that  lucky  message  has  aided  me.  I  wish  to  talk 
to  you,  Miss  Vaughan.' 

"  '  You  would  do  me  the  greatest  favor  by  leaving 
me,'  I  said.  '  You  ought  to  see  that  your  presence 
annoys  me.  Your  conduct  justifies  this  statement, 
which  might  otherwise  seem  rude.' 

"'  But  you  heard  me  promise  Colonel  Mitchell  that 
I  would  wait  till  his  return,'  he  said,  elevating  his  eye- 
brows. 

"'Then  /  will  go,'  I  answered,  half  rising.  (Of 
course  I  had  no  intention  of  going.) 

"'  No,'  he  replied,  making  a  movement  to  dissuada 
me.  '  He  left  you  here  to  entertain  his  guest  and  you 
mil  never  let  me  tell  him  you  disregarded  his  wish.' 

"  Then,  Mrs.  Madison,  I  made  a  heroic  effort.  I 
laughed  as  heartily  as  I  could  and  professed  to  have 
iateaded  the  whole  affair  as  a  joke,  hi  a  few  moments 
we  were  chatting  like  old  friends.  Befcre  th€  colons! 


If  "  «*•   «IOH,   THAT'S   TMB   MATS    TXITO.*' 

returned  we  were  talking  of  a  hundred  things  and  1 
knew  I  had  my  fish  all  ready  whenever  I  chose  to 
jerk  the  line." 

Bridget  opened  the  door  to  inquire  whether  they 
would  take  dinner  at  the  usual  hour  or  wait  for  Miss 
Cora. 

"  Oh,  wait  for  Cora,  by  all  means,"  said  Miss  Vaug- 
han.  "She  can't  be  much  later."  Then  she  re- 
sumed : 

'•'  To  make  a  long  story  short,  Claude  hung  about 
me  from  that  hour.  I  rode  with  him,  sailed  with  him, 
played  tennis,  strolled,  went  to  suppers  and  to  balls 
with  him.  I  had  him  insane  in  a  fortnight  and  maud- 
lin in  a  month.  One  night,  at  a  german,  we  got  lost 
in  a  conservatory  and  he  tried  to  kiss  me.  His  arm 
was  around  my  waist  and  his  lips  almost  touching 
mine  before  I  suspected  his  intention.  It  took  abso- 
lute strength  to  stop  him.  One  of  his  hands  was  on 
my  bare  shoulder.  He  looked  awfully,  eyes  bloodshot, 
breath  coming  and  going  fast  I  wrenched  myself 
from  him  and  all  the  customary  things  came  into  my 
mind,  but  I  could  not  utter  one  of  them.  I  wanted  to 
tell  him  he  was  a  brute,  that  he  must  never  speak  to 
me  again,  and  a  hundred  things  like  that,  but  I 
couldn't  How  it  came  out  I  don't  know,  but  this  is 
what  I  said  : 

" '  There  is  but  one  road  to  my  lips,  Mr.  Wyllis  !' 

"  He  staggered  backward  and  I  escaped  to  the  ball- 
room, where  I  was  relieved  to  accept  an  immediate 
invitation  to  dance.  When  the  set  was  finished  a  boy 
handed  me  this  note  :" 

Miss  Vaughan  took  a  crumpled  piece  of  paper  from 
her  pocket  and  read  it  aloud  : 


M  KB'I  KOH,  TKAT'I  me  MAIH  THEIG."         It 
"  I  know  the  road  and  I  wish  to  take  h.    Please  answtt  by 


Mrs.  Madison  cried  out  in  a  startled  way  and  Miss 
Vaughan  said : 

"  Yes,  he  sent  me  that ;  and  I  answered  OB  the  back 
of  a  card,  '  Wait  a  month  and  I  may  tell  you.' " 

"That  was  very  risky,"  interrupted  the  prudent 
elder  lady. 

"  No  ;  I  knew  him.  It  was  as  good  as  a  direct 
'  yes,'  and  answered  my  purpose  much  better.  For  the 
next  thirty  days  I  saw  him  as  little  as  possible.  When 
the  limit  expired,  he  sent  a  note  asking  me  to  meet 
him,  and  I  went.  '  How  can  you  look  me  in  the 
face  ?'  was  my  inquiry.  '  You  have  acted  in  an  ungen- 
tlemanly  manner.'  '  My  love  overcame  me,'  he 
stammered,  for  he  was  really  frightened  now.  '  Your 
love  !'  I  echoed.  '  It  was  more  like  the  love  of  a  grizzly 
bear  than  of  a  gentleman  !'  '  I'm  very  sorry,'  he  en- 
treated, humbly.  '  You  asked  me  to  come  here,'  I  con- 
tinued, abruptly,  '  what  do  you  wish  ?'  '  Wish  ?' 
he  repeated,  '  why, you!  I  have  waited  your  thirty  days 
and  I  want  your  answer.  Will  you  marry  me ?'  'I 
supposed  a  month  would  cure  you  of  that  idea,'  I  said. 
'  A  month  ?  No,  nor  a  year  !'  he  cried.  '  Nothing  will 
ever  change  my  mind.'  I  looked  at  him.  He  was 
pale  and  trembling.  It  was  a  severe  case.  I  pitied 
him — and  then,  he  had  a  million,  at  least  '  It's  noth* 
ttjg  to  act  silly  about,'  I  said.  '  Let's  talk  it  over  sensi* 
bly' 

"  Thee,  i  said  everything  I  could  think  of  to  dis- 
suade him.  I  was  an  orphan  girl,  without  near  rela- 
tions. He  would  soon  tire  of  me.  It  was  «*  sudden 
passion,  which  he  would  regret  by-and-by.  AH  us«- 


9<*         "  JUTI  JUCH,  TMAT'I 

less  !  It  wasn't  my  relations  he  wanted,  but  me.  Ht 
could  give  me  money  enough,  either  then  or  after 
marriage. 

" '  Well,'  I  said  at  last, '  if  you  really  insist  on  it' 

"Then  he  caught  my  hand  and  covered  it  with 
kisses.  And  then — '  One  from  the  lips  to  seal  the 
engagement !'  he  cried  ;  but  I  absolutely  forbade  it 
'  Am  I  never  to  kiss  you  r1  he  asked,  blankly.  '  Not  till 
after  marriage,'  I  answered.  'Well,  then,'  he  said,  *  we 
will  hasten  the  day,'  '  Oh,  no !'  I  said,  '  it  must  wait  a 
very  long  time.'  '  A  month  ?'  cried  poor  Claude,  '  not 
longer  !'  '  A  year,  at  least,'  I  answered.  Oh,  he  was 
a  sight,  then  !" 

Miss  Vaughan  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh  at  the  re- 
collection. 

"  You  were  cruel,  my  dear,"  said  the  widow,  tap- 
ping the  girl  indulgently  with  her  fan. 

"I  owed  him  every  bit  of  it"  smiled  Miss 
Vaughan.  "  But  the  day  is  set  now,  early  in  October, 
and  he  is  becoming  more  like  a  human  creature.  I'll 
wagei  it's  the  longest  year  he  ever  saw,  though,"  and 
she  laughed  again. 

A  buggy  stopped  at  this  moment  before  the  house 
and  a  young  girl  alighted.  She  was  between  sixteen 
and  seventeen  years  of  age,  rather  slight  with  a  bright 
face,  around  which  the  chestnut  hair  made  a  hand- 
some frame.  It  was  like  little  Jessie,  grown  older.  Both 
ladies  arose  to  meet  the  new  comer  at  the  doorway. 

"  Who  brought  you,  Cora?"  was  the  mother's  first 
question,  as  she  glanced  at  the  buggy,  whose  occupant 
was  still  waiting  at  the  gate. 

"  A  very  nice  gentleman,  mamma,  who  came  along 
luckily,  just  us  I  had  missed  the  car  in  Brighton.  He 
ottered  to  drive  me  on  till  we  caught  up  to  tbe  car. 


BIOH,  TMAT'I  ran  MAIH  rax*."         $1 

which  was  visible  down  the  street,  but  afterwards  h« 
said  he  might  as  well  bring  me  home.  He  knows  you, 
too,  Belle,"  she  added.  "  Here's  his  card — Mr.  Claude 
Wyllis." 

Mrs.  Madison  uttered  a  slight  exclamation,  aad 
Miss  Vaughan  walked  down  to  the  gate  with  a  con* 
tracted  brow.  Mr.  Wyllis  sat  idly  in  the  buggy,  evi- 
dently awaiting  her. 

"  What  business  had  you  to  come  here  ?"  she  asked 
him,  when  she  reached  the  wheel. 

"  Oh,  Belle,"  he  answered,  "  don't  scold  me  all  the 
time  !  I  didn't  know  where  the  child  was  going  till 
we  got  nearly  here,  and  then  I  couldn't  run  away, 
could  I  ?  She  had  my  card  and  I  knew  you  would 
see  it.  There  was  nothing  for  me  to  do  but  wait." 

"  You  will  not  call  here  again  until  I  send  you 
word,"  she  commanded,  imperiously.  "I  cannot  be 
dogged  all  the  time.  I  am  free  till  October,  at  least" 

"  October  !"  he  cried,  rapturously.  "  How  long  it  is 
in  coming  !" 

"All  too  soon,  for  me,"  she  said. 

His  face  clouded. 

"You  were  so  different  before  our  engagement,'* 
he  muttered.  "  You  were  not  so  icy,  then.  Which,  I 
wonder,  is  the  real  and  which — " 

"  Mr.  Wyllis  !"  she  said,  sharply.  "  I  will  not  listen 
to  such  words  !  Now  go  ;  and,  remember  !" 

He  drove  obediently  away  and  she  went  back  to- 
i:he  house. 

"  No,  he  couldn't  possibly  come  in,"  she  said,  ia 
response  to  the  questions  that  were  showered  upon* 
her.  "  I'll  bring  him  oat  some  day,  though,  before-* 
October." 

*  Oh,  Is  it  m  October  that  you  are  to  be  married  1*' 


28  "  Hi'*    KICK,    THAT'S   THX   MAXV 

cried  Cora.  "  I'm  so  glad,  Belle.  I  know  hell  make 
you  a  lovely  husband.  He  was  as  pleasant  to  me  as 
be  could  be." 

Mrs.  Madison  left  the  room  to  see  if  all  was  in 
'readiness  for  dinner. 

"He  talked  so  nicely  to  me,"  continued  Cora, 
*  And  when  we  were  almost  here  he  told  me  to  prom* 
ise  him  never  to  let  a  strange  man  take  me  in  his 
buggy  again,  no  matter  what  the  excuse  might  be. 
'It's  all  right  in  this  case,'  he  said,  'but  you  might 
make  a  great  mistake  another  time."  As  if  I  couldn't 
take  care  of  myself  !  But  he  spoke  so  kindly  I  could 
only  say,  '  Yes,  sir.'  When  I  pointed  out  the  house, 
he  looked  startled.  'Does  any  one  live  there  except 
your  own  people  Y  he  asked.  So  I  told  him  all  about 
the  students  that  we  lodge  and  also  that  a  Miss 
Vaugnan  was  visiting  us.  Then  he  gave  me  the  card. 
I'm  so  glad  to  have  seen  him,  and  I  know  you'll  love 
him  very  much." 

Miss  Vaughan  turned  to  the  mirror  to  arrange  her 
hair.  There  was  moisture  in  her  eyes. 

"  Cora  insists  on  your  sleeping  with  her,"  said  Mrs. 
Madison,  that  night,  when  she  found  herself  alone 
for  a  moment  with  her  guest.  "  I  hope  you'll  be 
candid  and  say  so  if  you  prefer  a  room  alone." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  would  much  rather  have  her,"  responded 
Miss  Vaughan. 

"  You'll  be  very  careful  what  you  say  before  her," 
said  the  widow,  pointedly,  "won't  you?  She  is  as 
much  of  a  child  a»  Jessie,  and  I  wish  to  keep  her  so 
M  long  as  possible," 


WMAT  if  LOTS! 


CHAPTER  H. 

LOVE?    WHAT   IS   LOVX  ? 

As  Claude  Wyllis  drove  up  the  street  from  Mrs 
Madison's  residence,  he  encountered  a  young  man 
who  was  coming  briskly  along  the  sidewalk.  The 
young  man's  eyes  brightened  as  he  recognized  ths 
occupant  of  the  buggy,  and  mutual  pleasure  was  visi- 
ble in  the  countenances  of  both. 

"  Well,  Jack,  old  boy,  how  do  you  find  yourself 
this  evening  ?"  was  the  greeting  of  Mr.  Wyllis,  as  he 
drove  to  the  curb,  stopped  his  horse,  and  leaned  out 
to  shake  hands. 

"  Never  better  !"  said  Mr.  Jack  Elton.  "  And  if  I 
had  felt  ever  so  ill,  the  sight  of  your  face  would  have 
made  me  well  again." 

"  Always  flattery,"  smiled  Mr.  Wyllis,  with  a  sig- 
nificant gesture.  "  Get  in  here  with  me  and  take  a 
ride  for  a  half  hour  or  so.  I  have  something  to  say  to 
you,  and  this  place  is  as  good  as  any." 

Mr  Elton  got  into  the  buggy  without  more  ado. 
He  was  a  tall,  handsome  fellow,  perhaps  twenty-three 
years  of  age,  of  rather  dark  complexion  and  of  athletic 
build.  He  was  now  a  Harvard  senior  and  his  oar  had 
helped  that  year's  junior  class  crew  to  victory. 

"First,"  said  Mr.  Wyllis,   "let  us  talk  business. 
Have  Brewster  &  Bassett  given  you  all  the  money  ya?- 
needed  since  I  Issi  saw  yon  ?" 


§4  LOYE?   WHAT  It  LOT*  I 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply.  "The  checks  most  hav« 
come  back  to  you." 

"  I've  only  seen  half-a-dozen  little  bits  of  checks. 
I  feared  the  bankers  had  shut  down  on  you,  when  1 
SAW  they  weren't  larger.  You  don't  mean  to  say  yon 
have  lived  on  what  you  have  drawn  on  my  order  ?" 

"  Not  quite,"  replied  Jack.  "  I  have  been  the  col- 
lege correspondent  of  a  Bcston  paper  part  of  the  time, 
and  that  has  helped  me  out.  As  every  cent  you  lend 
me  will  be  repaid  with  interest  when  I  get  to  mak- 
ing my  living,  I  naturally  wish  to  keep  the  sum  as 
small  as  possible." 

Mr.  Wyllis  laughed,  as  he  started  his  horse  into  a 
little  faster  gait. 

"  Then  you  still  hold  to  the  absurd  notion  that  you 
are  to  repay  me  ?"  he  said. 

"  I  should  never  have  taken  a  penny  on  any  other 
condition,"  said  Jack  Elton,  positively. 

"All  right,"  was  the  rejoinder.  "And  when  you 
have  brought  back  those  few  hundreds  and  put  them 
into  my  purse,  you  might  go  and  take  a  bucketful 
of  water  and  throw  it  into  Charles  river.  One  would 
have  as  much  effect  as  the  other." 

"  If  I  owed  a  bucketful  of  water  to  the  Charles,  I 
would  pay  it,"  said  Elton,  seriously.  "  Especially 
if  that  bucketful  had  succored  me  when  I  was  in  sore 
danger  of  perishing  with  thirst.  Ah,  Claude,  I  nevet 
can  make  it  up,  this  kindness  of  yours  to  me !" 

Mr.  Wyllis  put  out  his  hand  in  a  deprecatory 
way. 

"  You  are  breaking  our  compact,"  he  said.  "  Grati* 
fade  was  never  to  be  mentioned  between  us.  You 
know,  as  well  as  I,  what  I  have  done  has  cost  mo 
nothing.  And  I  know — if  you  don't — that  I  never  did 


WHAT  H  LOT«I  25 

Anything,  that  I  nevei  would  do  anything,  for  you  of 
anybody  else  in  the  world,  that  would  lose  tne  on« 
moment's  pleasure." 

"Tell  that  to  some  one  beside  me,"  said  Elton. 
"  Have  I  not  known  of  a  score  of  kindly  things  you 
have  done — things  that  have  turned  sorrow  into  hap- 
piness, that  have  brightened  disconsolate  hearts? 
Why,  I  believe  the  sun  never  rises  and  sets  that  you 
do  not  perform  some  action  worthy  the  name  of 
noble." 

Mr.  Wyllis  drew  the  reins  so  tightly  during  thit 
speech  that  his  horse  came  to  a  walk.  He  was  driv- 
ing at  random  out  toward  Arlington. 

'•  Did  you  know  I  was  to  be  married,  Jack  ?"  h* 
said,  changing  the  subject  abruptly. 

"No,"  said  Elton,  showing  sudden  interest 
"  Soon  !" 

"  In  October." 

"I  am  very  glad,"  said  Jack,  simply. 

"Why?"  asked  the  other,  turning  his  face  fully 
toward  his  companion. 

"  Why  ?"  reiterated  Elton.  "  Because  I  am  glad  of 
anything  which  will  make  you  happier." 

Wyllis  turned  away  for  a  moment.     Then  he  said  : 

"  Does  marriage  make  every  man  happier  ?" 

"  It  should,"  replied  Elton.  "  Surely  it  was  meant 
to ;  and  surely  you  would  never  eater  into  the  state 
unless  you  were  quite  convinced  it  would  be  so  in 
your  case." 

"  Shall  you  ever  get  married,  Jack  r" 

The  question  was  put  in  a  low  tone  and  the  listener 
was  struck  with  the  deep  meaning  which  it  seemed  to 
to  bear. 

"That's  a  bard  question,  Claude,"  he  answered, 


M  L*nit  WMAT  u  LOTS! 

"  to  put  to  a  student  who  found  himself  at  nineteen 
without  an  education  and  whose  best  hope  is  to  find 
himself  at  twenty-seven  or  twenty-eight  with  a  sheep- 
stein  and  a  debt  of  several  thousand  dollars  as  his 
only  capital.  If  I  had  the  fortune  and  the  bright 
future  immediately  before  me  that  you,  have  (don't 
think  I  envy  you,  Claude — I  am  only  too  gkd  it  is  so)  I 
could  answer  you  without  much  hesitation." 

Mr.  Wyllis  waited  a  minute  and  then  said  : 

"  Let  me  understand  you :  If  you  had  money 
enough  to  live  on  comfortably  and  a  woman  had 
promised  to  marry  you,  you  would  consider  it  a  cause 
for  congratulation.  Is  that  it  ?" 

Elton  smiled,  rather  than  spoke,  assent  to  the 
proposition. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Wyllis,  slowly,  "  I  may  ask  you 
to  do  me  a  favor.  I've  got  the  money  and  I'm  hearti- 
ly sick  of  it.  As  near  as  I  can  figure  it  out,  it  has 
been  the  ruin  of  me.  It  has  deprived  me  of  all  incen- 
tive to  make  anything  of  myself,  from  my  cradle  up. 
It  has  made  me  a  drone,  an  incubus  on  society,  a  per- 
fectly useless  incumbrance  to  the  world.  The  prospect 
ahead  is  no  better.  I  have  no  object  in  being  anything 
but  what  I  am.  Upon  my  soul,  Jack,  I  think  if  I  were 
to  find  myself  somehow  without  a  hundred  dollars  1 
should  astonish  you  by  the  success  I  would  make. 
With  a  million  I  am  nobody.  Now,  I  have  an  idea — I 
am  not  quite  sure  of  it  yet,  but  it's  working  in  my 
mind — that  I  would  like  some  good,  honest  fellow  like 
you,  whom  money  wouldn't  spoil,  to  take  my  cash  and 
— my  bride  with  it." 

Elton  laughed  at  the  conclusion,  box  seeing  that  his 
companion's  face  did  npt  lose  it's  seriousness,  he  grew 


LOVE?   WXAZ  B  LOT*  I  87 

"  Claude,  old  fellow,  you  are  in  the  dumps  to-night, 
•r  else  you  are  trying  me.  What  is  the  matter  ?" 

"  How  long  have  you  roomed  at  Mrs.  Madisoa's  r* 
asked  Wyllis,  changing  the  subject  again. 

"  Over  a  year,"  replied  Elton.     "  Wh®  told  you  P 

"Miss  Cora." 

"Cora!" 

"  Yes  •  we  were  out  riding  together  this  after- 
noon." 

Elton  was  visibly  disturbed.  His  self-possession 
left  him  the  moment  the  name  of  his  landlady's 
daughter  was  mentioned. 

"I — did  not — know — you  kmew  her,"  he  stam- 
mered. 

"  I  didn't  know  her  until  to-day,"  said  Wyllis,  in  an 
off-hand  manner.  "  I  happened  to  fee  driving  through 
Brighton  and  I  saw  her  waiting  om  the  sidewalk.  So 
I  took  her  home." 

Jack  Elton's  teeth  shut  together  with  a  sudden, 
vicious  snap,  and  his  dark  eyes  blazed.  Had  any 
other  man  in  the  world  uttered  those  words  in  that 
cool  way  he  would  have  paid  for  it,  then  and  there. 
Wyllis  thoroughly  comprehended  all  that  was  passing 
in  his  friend's  mind. 

"  She  should  have  been  mere  thoughtful,"  said 
Eltom,  recovering  himself.  "  Allowing  such  a  liberty  to 
a  stranger  might  sometimes  be  dangerous." 

"  Just  what  I  said  to  her,"  assented  Wyllis.  "  I  did 
more  than  say  it,  too — I  made  her  promise  never  to 
do  it  again.  Oh,  it's  an  old  trick  of  mine — if  I've 
done  it  once  I  have  a  hundred  times — inducing  a.  girl 
to  do  something  that  might  cause  talk  under  other 
circumstances  and  then  giving  her  a  teefesve  cm  the 
folly  of  it" 


SS  LDTX  1  WHAT  IS  LOTX  f 

"  But,  do  you  think  that  wise  ?"  interrupted  Elton. 

"  I  don't  think  I've  got  that  deep  into  it,"  smiled 
Wyllis,  "  but  at  any  rate  it  is  always  very  amusing." 

He  knew  that  every  word  of  this  light  badinage 
was  cutting  into  his  friend's  heart,  but  his  wilfulnetf 
was  in  the  ascendant.  He  knew,  too,  how  far  he  could 
strain  the  cord  in  this  careless  way  and  not  break  it. 

"  She  told  me  many  things,"  he  went  on.  "  I  never 
met  a  more  entertaining  little  conversationalist.  She's 
pretty,  too,  or  will  be  in  a  few  years  more — you  hadn't 
noticed  it  ?  Well,  I'm  surprised.  Unless  I'm  totally 
wrong  she'll  be  what  they  call  a  beauty  when  she's 
twenty.  Her  eyes  are  most  expressive ;  her  brow, 
while  not  highly  intellectual,  shows  something  better  ; 
her  complexion  will  be  a  thing  for  painters  to  rave 
over  ;  and  her  mouth — " 

Jack  Elton  could  not  help  the  gasp  which  escaped 
aim.  He  was  struck  with  sudden  and  awful  pain. 

"  It's  nothing  !"  he  explained,  when  Claude  com- 
mented on  his  pallor.  "  I've  been  rowing  to-day  and 
I'm  a  trifle  exhausted." 

Wyllis  was  affected  with  momentary  contrition. 

"  That  devilish  boat  will  kill  you  yet,"  he  said. 
Then  he  resumed  : 

"  She  told  me  her  mother  was  a  widow  and  that 
they  took  students  to  lodge.  Of  course  I  thought  of 
you  at  the  word  '  students,'  and  I  asked  her  if  she  had 
ever  heard  of  Mr.  Elton.  '  Why,  yes,'  she  said.  *  He 
lives  at  our  house.'  '  Indeed,'  I  replied,  '  and  What 
kind  of  a  fellow  is  he  ?'  *  Oh,  a  very  nice  gentleman,' 
•he  answered  with  warmth.  '  My  ten  year  old  sister 
Jessie  calls  him  her  "big  brother,"  and  my  mother 
y*uag  mean  food  ash*.'  There, 


LOT>!  WHAT  II  LOYZ!  39 

Jack,  I  see  the  blushes  coming  to  your  face  and  I  win 
leave  the  story  right  here  " 

Mr.  Wyllis  turned  his  horse's  head  towards  Watep- 
town  and,  as  they  drove  through  one  of  the  shaded 
roads  which  connect  that  suburb  with  Arlington,  the 
bright  rays  of  the  slowly  setting  sun  shone  through 
the  branches  upon  the  pair. 

"  I  see  my  proposal  to  give  up  my  promised  bride 
to  you  would  be  declined,"  said  Wyllis,  jokingly,  after 
they  had  ridden  for  a  short  distance  without  speaking. 
"As  the  old  ladies  say,  'Your  market  is  already 
made.' " 

Mr.  Jack  Elton  was  no  master  of  the  art  of  pre- 
tence and  his  startled  look  completed  the  task  of  con- 
vincing his  companion. 

"  She  will  be  a  beautiful  woman,  Jack.  As  I  said 
before,  I  congratulate  you  heartily." 

"Claude,"  interposed  Elton,  placing  his  hand  on 
his  companion's  arm,  "you  must  not  speak  like  that." 

Wyllis  had  never  heard  him  say  anything  with 
such  a  serious  mien. 

"You  have  been  more  than  a  brother  to  me, 
Claude,  but  there  are  subjects  upon  which  even  you 
must  not  jest.  Cora  Madison  is  one  of  them." 

Wyllis  looked  into  the  serious  face  with  well  simu- 
lated surprise. 

"  Jest  ?"  he  exclaimed.  "  And  on  a  subject  so  dear 
to  you  ?  Jack,  I  thought  you  cnew  me  better." 

"Claude,"  said  the  young  student,  impulsively, 
*  f  ou  have  compelled  me  to  a  confession.  If  I  were  of 
a  different  station  in  life — if  I  had  something  to  offer 
to  a  wife  except  the  weary  companionship  of  a  friend- 
1*53  physician,  who  must  expect  years  of  toil  before  he 
0$a  hope  for  any  considerable  monetary  reward — i 


80  LOT*!    WKAT  H   LOTX? 

might  cherish  hopes  that  I  could,  by-and-by,  propose 
marriage  to  Miss  Cora.  She  is  not  yet  seventeen,  and 
at  the  best  I  should  have  to  wait  a  long  time.  But,  as 
it  is,  she  shall  never  hear  a  word  from  me  to  cloud  thai 
happiness  which  must  come  to  her  from  some  one 
more  fit  to  be  her  equal  mate." 

Claude  Wyllis  felt  each  word  as  if  they  had  beee 
coals  of  fire. 

"  You  do  love  her,  then  ?"  he  said,  gently. 

"  Love  her  !"  repeated  Elton,  "  yes.  Too  much  cO 
ever  let  her  know  it  unless  circumstances  arise  which 
are  not  now  within  the  bounds  of  apparent  proba- 
bility." 

Wyllis  felt  the  depth  of  meaning  in  the  answer 
surging  through  his  brain.  Ah  !  Could  he  only  feel 
a  love  like  that — a  love  so  deep  that  selfishness  could 
find  no  place  in  it ! 

"  You're  a  queer  fellow,  Jack,"  he  said,  presently. 
"  I  can't  comprehend  you  in  the  least.  Here's  a  man 
who  can  take  an  oar  and  fairly  pull  a  whole  boat-load 
of  incapable*  over  the  line  ahead  of  every  other  class 
crew — I  know  a  good  oarsman  who  saw  you  do  it — 
and  yet,  with  a  hundred  and  fifteen  pounds  of  femi- 
ninity at  stake,  he  drops  his  paddle  without  a  struggle. 
It's  lucky  you've  got  a  sensible  chap  like  me  to  come 
along  once  in  a  year  or  two  and  brace  you  up.  Now, 
1  tell  you  distinctly,  you  must  marry  this  girl.  Acy 
other  idea  is  too  nonsensical  to  even  discuss.  You 
can  wait  ;  she  can  wait.  You're  nearly  twenty-three  ; 
she's  nearly  seventeen.  Nexu^ear  you  will  graduate 
from  Harvard.  Then  you'll  take  a  year  in  the  Medica* 
School  here  and  three  years  in  Germany.  Then  you'll 
be  twenty-seven,  as  old  as  I  am  to  a  day.  Miss  Cora 
•All  be  twenty-one,  exactly  the  age  of  my  fiancee 


LOTS?   WMAT   IB   LOT!  I  SI 

YouT.  get  married  and  g-:>  throurjh  all  the  delights  of 
short  allowance  which  novelists  tell  us  make  people 
love  each  other  more  and  more,  but  it  won't  last  long. 
You'll  have  a  handsome  practice  in  a  year  or  two  and 
then  all  will  be  smooth  sailing.  There  !  I've  planned 
it  all  out  for  you  and  if  you  deviate  a  hair  from  the 
path  I  shall  almost  wish  I'd  never  seen  you." 

"  I  wish  you  were  a  seer,"  smiled  Elton,  brighten- 
ing a  little,  "  but  I  know  it  can  never  be,  so  we  might 
as  well  dismiss  it  from  our  minds.  But  tell  me  about 
your  own  lady.  Everything  that  concerns  you  has 
the  deepest  interest  for  me." 

"  Well,  in  the  first  place,  by  a  queer  coincidence, 
she  is  also  stopping  at  this  moment  at  Mrs.  Madison's 
house.  I  spoke  to  her  there  when  I  left  Miss  Cora, 
iust  before  I  met  you." 

"  At  Mrs.  Madison's !"  repeated  Elton,  in  astonish- 
ment. 

"  Yes.  She  is  an  old  acquaintance  of  the  family  ; 
in  fact,  I  think  her  people  used  to  live  here.  You  may 
have  seen  her — Miss  Isabelle  Vaughan." 

No.  Jack  had  not  seen  her,  but  he  had  heard  her 
spoken  of.  He  could  not  tell  his  friend  what  he  had 
heard  said  of  her.  It  might  or  it  might  not  have  a 
basis  of  truth.  Collegians  were  not  alwavs  either  just 
or  generous  in  their  estimates  of  women.  He  had  a 
momentary  wish  that  Claude's  affianced  was  some  owe 
else,  and  then  he  felt  a  sharp  sense  of  pain  that  Miss 
Vaughan  should  be  so  intimate  with  the  Madisons. 

"I  did  not  myself  know  she  was  there  until  Miss 
Cora  told  me,  along  with  her  other  confidences,"  said 
Wyllis.  "  She  said  Miss  Vaughan  would  stay  for  some 
days.  She  lives  in  New  York  when  at  home,  but  is 
^uite  a  bird  of  passage.  Summer  usually  finds  her  at 


83  LOYl !  WHAT  a  U>YlT 

shore,  mountain  or  springs,  and  winter  in  Florida  of 
the  Carolinas." 

He  had  talked  on  at  random  to  fill  up  the  time  and 
his  companion  knew  it  intuitively. 

"How  did  it  happen — the  engagement?"  Eitoa 
asked. 

Claude  Wyllis  laughed,  discordantly. 

"  That  is  what  I've  wondered  at  for  a  long  time." 

Elton  looked  at  him  strangely. 

"  Engagements  to  marry  are  solemn  things, 
Claude,"  he  said. 

"  I  should  say  they  were  !"  ejaculated  the  other. 
u  This  one  has  kept  me  in  a  stew  since  a  year  ago  last 
June.  I  shall  be  glad  when  it's  over." 

"Over?" 

"  Yes  ;  when  we're  married." 

"But  it  will  be  only  begun  then,"  said  Elton. 
'* '  For  life,  for  death  !'  Those  are  the  words." 

"  Oh,  it  won't  be  so  serious  as  all  that,"  expostu- 
lated his  friend.  "  If  it  doesn't  suit  me  I  shall  give  it 
up,  you  may  be  sure.  I  know  the  rigmarole  the  minis- 
ter repeats — I've  heard  it  often  enough — and  I  suppose 
"t's  necessary  to  have  some  tormality,  but  it  really 
means  nothing  ;  nothing  at  all,  I  assure  you.  If  people 
took  it  literally  the  marriage  statistics  would  show  a 
decided  falling  off." 

Elton  looked  little  short  of  horrified. 

"  How  a  man  who  really  loves  a  woman  can  speak 
in  that  way  is  past  my  comprehension,"  he  said, 
fervently.  "  Claude,  I  must  take  some  of  your 
expressions  as  meaningless.  You  can't  realize  their 
full  significance  !" 

Wyllis  smiled  into  the  troubled  eyes  that  con* 
fronted  him. 


LOT!  I   WHAT   T»   LOT*  !  88 

"  I'm  aot  all  intensity  like  you,"  he  said.  *  That 
cursed  fortune  of  mine  has  compelled  me  to  amuse 
myself  in  odd  ways.  I  first  met  Miss  Vaughan  at 
Newport  last  year.  She  tried  to  be  pert  with  me  and 
I  determined  to  break  her.  We  had  a  tilt  and  she 
tame  out  ahead.  The  only  woman  who  ever  made 
me  fetch  and  carry  is  entitled  to  the  spoils  of  war  and 
since  then  I've  merely  graced  her  chariot  wheels." 

"  But — you  love  her  ?"  said  Jack,  anxiously. 

"  Do  I  ?"  cried  Wyllis,  rather  bitterly.  "  Well,  I'm 
not  so  sure.  I  felt  something  like  it,  when  I  first  knew 
her  ;  in  those  weeks  when  we  were  playing  at  battle- 
dore and  shuttlecock  ;  something  like  it,  Jack,  and  yet 
not  the  sort  of  thing  that  I  find  in  you,  when  Miss 
Madison  is  concerned.  I  wanted  her  at  first  as  a 
man  might  want  a  handsome  horse.  And  now  I  want 
her  as  I  might  like  to  possess  a  beautiful  wild  animal 
that  had  bitten  me  !" 

Wyllis'  face  had  changed  so  terribly  before  he 
reached  the  last  words  that  Elton  could  hardly  retain 
his  composure.  He  had  never  heard  him  look  or  speak 
so,  and  he  was  about  .to  interpolate  something  when 
his  friend  continued  : 

"  She  plays  with  me  as  a  lioness  might  with  a  feitten 
— and  I  am  helpless.  She  has  postponed  the  marriage 
to  the  very  last  moment.  She  has  hardly  allowed  me 
to  be  seen  in  public  with  her  since  the  engagement. 
When  I  waited  at  Mrs.  Madison's  gate  to-night  she 
•talked  to  the  curbstone  and  ordered  me  away.  She 
knows  I  will  bear  it  all  and  exults  in  her  power.  Why 
the  devil  do  I  tell  you  these  thingi?"  he  added,  stop- 
ping short  and  shuddering  violently. 

Elton  showed  his  sympathy  in  every  lineament  el 
his  handsome  face. 


*6  LOTS  I  WHAT  II  LOYBV 

"  It  may  do  you  good,  Claude,  to  tell  a*e,  '  said  he 
-If  it  does,  I  will  hear  it  all." 

"  Love?"  broke  out  Wyllis.  "  What  is  love?  Does 
an  accepted  lover  press  his  kisses  upon  the  lips  of  hit 
fair  one  ?  Well,  I  never  was  permitted  to  touch  hers 
Does  she  allow  his  arms  around  her  and  hide  her  shrink- 
log,  bashful  face  on  his  shoulder  ?  Well,  I  never  have 
had  the  tiniest  embrace.  Is  she  glad  when  she  hears  his 
step  and  does  she  run  lightly  to  meet  him  ?  I've  read 
of  such  things  in  books — I've  seen  them  in  plays — but 
if  that's  love,  it's  of  a  different  variety  from  that  pos- 
sessed by  Miss  Isabelle  Vaughan." 

Elton  had  never  seen  such  a  look  on  the  face  of  any 
human  being. 

"Claude,"  he  said,  firmly,  "you  must  never  marry 
a  woman  toward  whom  you  entertain  such  a  feeling  as 
this.  It  would  be  sacrilege." 

Wyllis  turned  fiercely  upon  him. 

"  Not  marry  her  !  By  God,  I  will,  though  !  Inside 
the  wedded  bond  she  shall  find  me  her  master  !  Do 
you  think  I  would  act  this  disgraceful  part  for  fifteen 
months  and  then  throw  up  my  reward  ?  Let  her  play 
her  pretty  game  while  she  may  !  For  every  pang  she 
has  given  me  I  will  give  her  a  hundred  !  The  sweet- 
heart may  look  down  on  me  loftily,  but  the  wife  shall 
be  under  my  feet !  I'll — " 

Elton  cried  out : 

"  Don't  Claude  !  It's  like  insanity  !  Calm  your- 
fcelf!" 

But  he  went  on  : 

"We  were  out  in  the  conservatory  at  Newport, 
Jack,  among  the  roses.  She  had  made  me  frantic — yes, 
she  knew  what  she  was  doing.  We  had  waltzed  to- 
gether. I  tried  to  kiss  her.  One  of  my  hands  fell,  by 


LOYl!  WHAT  n  LOTS  I  35 

pare  accident,  on  her  shoulder.  It  was  but  a 
second,  but  every  particle  of  sense  vanished  from  my 
brain.  She  knew  all.  Shrewdly  and  calculatingly  she 
took  every  advantage.  I  do  not  blame  her.  Had  she 
given  me  that  kiss  then,  the  tables  would  have  been 
turned.  She  held  the  winning  card — the  ability  to  re- 
strain herself — and,  like  a  fly  in  a  spider's  trap,  I  sur- 
rendered without  a  struggle.  That  was  her  victory. 
Mine  will  come  in  October  !" 

He  paused,  and  Elton  could  not  for  his  life  find 
suitable  words  in  which  to  reply.  They  had  driven 
down  Brattle  Street  and  were  nearly  at  Mrs.  Madison's 
gate  again.  A  little  figure  on  the  sidewalk  spied  Jack 
in  the  buggy  and  called  to  him.  It  was  Jessie. 

"  Oh,  Jack,  we've  wanted  you  dreadfully,"  said  the 
child,  as  the  buggy  came  to  a  stop.  "  Cora  wanted 
to  have  some  singing  and  she  got  Mr.  Binden  to  come 
down  for  the  bass  and  we  thought,  of  course,  you 
would  give  us  the  baritone,  but  we  could  not  find  you 
anywhere.  Miss  Vaughan  sings  beautifully,  just  like 
an  angel — do  you  know  Miss  Vaughan  ?  Where  have 
you  been  riding  and  who  is  this  gentleman  r" 

The  frankness  and  innocence  of  the  child  came  like 
a  cool  breeze  of  evening  to  help  drive  the  heat  from 
Claude  Wyllis'  brow.  He  and  Elton  both  alighted. 

"  Who  am  I  ?"  he  said,  putting  his  hand  on  Jessie's 
curls.  "  So  you  don't  know,  eh  ?  Well,  I  know  who 
you  are.  You  are  Cora  Madison's  little  sister  Jessie ; 
and  you  are  ten  years  old  ;  and  you  call  Jack  Elton 
your  '  big  brother.'  " 

Seeing  that  the  oddity  of  his  friend's  manner  cca* 
fused  the  child,  Elton  said  : 

"  Jessie,  this  is  Mr  Claude  Wyllis." 


16  LOTl?  WHAT  IB  LOTXf 

"Ah,  ha!"  cried  the  sprite,  nodding  her  nead 
wisely.  "  Now  I  can  tell  something  about  you,  too  ! 
You  are  the  man  who  takes  girls  to  ride,  and  then  tells 
them  never  to  let  anybody  else  do  the  same  thing ;  and 
you  are  going  to  marry  Miss  Vaughan  in  October 
You  see  I've  heard  of  you,  also.  You  must  come  into 
the  house,  because  you  have  surely  got  time  enough 
now,  if  you  hadn't  before,  and  mamma  will  think  it 
real  rude  if  you  don't" 

Wyllis  felt  how  hard  it  was  to  equivocate  with 
those  honest  eyes  fixed  upon  him,  but  he  said  : 

"  My  dear  Miss  Jessie,  if  I  come  I  shall  miss  the 
ten  o'clock  train,  which  I  have  barely  time  to  catch." 
Then,  dropping  his  voice  to  a  whisper,  he  said  to 
Elton,  "  I'm  at  Young's  ;  run  in  to-morrow,"  and,  with 
a  goodby  to  each,  he  drove  away. 

"  I've  seen  your  Mr.  Wyllis,"  said  Jessie,  to  Mi«s 
Vaughan,  five  minutes  later,  quite  unabashed  by  tho 
presence  of  several  other  persons  who  were  gathered 
in  her  mother's  parlor. 

"  How  do  you  like  him  ?"  asked  that  young  lady, 
after  hearing  the  particulars  of  the  interview. 

"  W-e-1-1,"  said  Jessie,  slowly,  "  I  don't  ex-act-ly 
like  him  and  I  don't  ex-act-ly  <£r-like  him.  If  he  was 
my  lover,  though — and  came  as  near  the  house  as  he 
did — and  drove  off  to  catch  trains  instead  of  coming 
in  to  see  me — " 

44  Jessie  !"  called  Cora,  warningly. 

"I  don't  care;  I  mean  it!"  she  persisted,  going  to 
where  Elton  had  seated  himself  on  the  sofa.  "Say, 
Jack,  don't  you  think,  if  a  man  really  cared  much  for  a 
girl,  he  ought  to  find  time  to  see  her,  even  if  it  was  the 
teemest  minute  ?" 


OKI  WAT  TO  DTTEfi  HA8VAXD.  37 

Everybody  in  the  room  looked  at  Elton,  as  he  drew 
Jessie  to  him  and  ran  his  fingers  through  her  hair. 
"Yes,  Jessie,  /think  so,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER  III. 

OKI   WAY   TO   ENTER    HARVARD. 

Jack  Elton  was  not  happy  when  he  went  to  his 
chamber  that  night.  A  double  grief  rested  on  h's 
heart.  The  feeling  that  had  grown  up  there  towards 
Cora  Madison  had  received  a  wound.  For  a  long 
time  he  had  known  that  he  loved  her.  For  almost  as 
long  he  had  striven  to  master  the  sentiment  and 
striven  in  vain.  Now  he  had  heard  her  spoken  of 
lightly  by  the  man  whom  he  esteemed  above  all  others 
— the  man  who  had  made  it  possible  for  him  to  become 
something  in  the  world  above  a  common  laborer — and 
it  gave  him  a  degree  of  pain  which  he  would  not  have 
believed  could  come  from  such  a  source.  Then,  not 
so  heavy  as  his  own,  but  still  of  great  weight,  was  the 
burden  of  Claude's  own  situation.  Both  troubles 
pressed  upon  him,  making  his  temples  to  ache  and  his 
heart  to  grow  faint. 

He  had  been  an  orphan  boy  in  the  West.  His 
chance  for  education  seemed  very  slight  when  he  left 
the  grammar  school  at  eleven  years  of  age.  Books  of 
every  kind  that  fell  in  his  way  were  eagerly  devoured, 
but  tney  were  all  too  few  and  not  of  the  best.  From 
the  first  he  hoped — somehow — to  acquire  learning,  but 
years  passed  and  the  prospect  grew  no  brighter.  He 


88  on  WAT  TO  rarrra  MABTAJW. 

had  not  a  single  friend  to  whom  he  could  appeal. 
The  rough  farmers  whose  land  he  tilled  were  content 
with  their  weekly  Tribune  or  Pitneer,  and  could  not 
understand  what  a  "  workingman  "  could  want  with 
more.  He  turned  the  soil  in  the  late  autumn,  harrowed 
and  seeded  it  in  the  spring,  reaped  it  in  the  early  fall 
— and  waited  . 

One  day  he  resolved  to  try  to  become  a  doctor. 
He  went  to  a  physician's  office  and  stated  his  case, 
asking  employment. 

The  medical  man  was  struck  by  his  earnestness, 
but  he  said  : 

"  That  is  not  the  way  to  become  a  successful  doc- 
tor, now,  my  young  man.  Times  have  changed.  The 
physician  of  the  future  is  to  be  a  man  of  the  most 
liberal  education.  No  one  with  a  mere  technical 
knowledge  of  anatomy  and  hygiene  can  win  the  prizes 
of  the  next  twenty  years.  Lay  your  foundation  deep 
in  some  college.  Get  a  degree  of  B.  A.  before  you  try 
for  one  of  M.  D.  If  that  proves  impossible,  take  some 
other  method  of  getting  a  livelihood,  for  that  of  medi- 
cine will  not  do." 

Jack  turned  sadly  away. 

"  Go  East !"  called  the  physician  after  him.  "Go 
to  Boston.  Many  a  man  has  passed  through  Harvard 
with  no  capital  beside  pluck  and  determination.  Get 
Into  the  right  environment  and  await  your  chance." 

So  Jack  put  what  few  dollars  he  had  into  his 
pocket — they  were  not  many — and  went  to  Milwaukee. 
Here  he  sought  out  a  steamer  that  was  going  through 
the  Great  Lakes.  From  the  captain  he  readily  obtained 
permission  to  "  work  his  passage  "  to  Ogdensburg,  N. 
Y.  During  the  journey,  which  was  somewhat  tempes- 
tuous, he  attracted  the  captain's  attention  and  told  His 


OVX  WAT  TO   ESTER    HAXTABD.  39 

itory.  When  they  reached  the  steamer's  destination, 
the  captain  handed  him  a  letter  addressed  to  the 
superintendent  of  the  railroad  and  asked  him  to 
deliver  it.  To  Jack's  surprise  the  result  was  a  pass  te 
Boston. 

The  day  after  his  arrival  at  the  Hub  he  presented 
himself  at  the  dean's  office  in  the  college  yard  at 
Cambridge.  The  information  which  he  there  obtained 
startled  him.  It  would  take  at  least  a  year,  and  prob- 
ably more,  in  some  preparatory  school,  or  with  a  pri- 
vate tutor,  before  he  could  enter  the  college  at  all. 
The  expense  after  that,  at  the  lowest  possible  estimate, 
seemed  gigantic  to  him.  For  a  moment  he  wished 
himself  back  in  Minnesota,  with  his  hands  on  the  plow 
and  the  reins  of  his  horses  hanging  over  his  neck. 

As  he  went  out  toward  the  street,  his  dejected 
appearance  attracted  the  attention  of  a  young  man 
who  stood  at  the  gate.  Though  but  eighteen,  Elton 
looked  at  least  two  years  older. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?''  said  the  young  man,  kindly. 
"  Didn't  you  pass  ?" 

Elton  was  too  disheartened  to  resent  the  apparent 
impertinence  of  the  question.  He  saw  that  the  young 
man  was  well  dressed  and  realized  that  his  own  gar- 
ments were  unfashionable  enough.  There  seemed  a 
gulf  between  them  that  might  have  led  him  at  another 
time  to  make  a  sharp  retort, 

"  I  did  not  apply  for  admission,"  he  said,  "  but  only 
to  learn  the  requirements.  I  find  they  are  too  hard  for 
me." 

"I  wish  they  were  twice  as  hard,"  said  Claude 
Wyllis,  for  it  was  he.  "  Then  everybody  would  give 
up  the  confounded  nonsense.  It  is  a  terrible  waste  of 
time,  to  my  mind,  learning  these  dead  languages  and 


40  OR  WIT   TO   KTTXB  HAXYUD. 

deader  sciences.  I've  been  here  three  years  and  IV« 
had  enough.  I  only  wish  I'd  decided  to  auit  it 
sooner." 

E  ion  looked  at  his  new  acquaintance  with  consider- 
able interest  and  felt  drawn  toward  him  in  a  manner 
he  could  not  account  for. 

"  I  wanted  to  be  a  doctor,"  he  went  on  to  explain, 
**  and  I  lack  the  first  requisite,  a  good  education.  I 
came  from  the  West  on  the  advice  of  a  physician  there, 
but  I  find  the  prospects  harder  than  I  supposed.  I 
think  I  shall  have  to  give  it  up." 

"Oh,  if  you're  to  be  a  doctor,  of  course  you'll 
have  to  write  Latin,"  said  Wyllis,  "  in  order  to  puzzie 
your  patient  and  his  druggist  with  unmeaning  recipes. 
But  I  should  think  you  might  get  Latin  enough  for 
that  at  a  preparatory  school.  Then  all  you'll  need  is 
a  lot  of  salts  and  senna  and  a  carving  knife." 

Elton  laughed  at  this  statement  and  so  did  Wyllis, 
who  evidently  thought  it  a  good  joke. 

"  But  I  haven't  even  been  to  a  preparatory  school 
yet,"  said  Jack.  "  It  must  seem  odd  to  you,  but  I  hadn't 
the  remotest  idea  what  was  necessary." 

"  Come  over  into  my  room  in  Holyoke,"  said 
.Claude,  kindly.  "There  must  be  some  way  of  accom- 
modating a  fellow  who  wants  to  drudge  away  half-a- 
dozen  years.  Come  over  and  let's  see  what  can  be 


So  jick  went  over  to  H«lyokeand  was  duly  amazed 
ai  the  magnificence  —  as  he  thought  it  —  of  Mr.  Wyllis' 
apartments  there.  They  were  the  typical  rooms  of  the 
Harvard  boy.  The  furniture  was  clothed  in  bright 
colors,  anc'  the  pictures,  which  fairly  covered  the  wait 
were  mostly  of  female  objects. 

Little  by  little  Wyllis  learned  the  whole  story 


OHX  WAT   TO  X9TXB   HABVABD.  41 

"The  dean  was  right,"  he  said.  "It  will  take  a 
year  or  more  of  hard  study  to  fit  you  to  enter  the 
freshman  class.  A  private  tutor  would  be  much  the 
surest  way." 

"And  that  would  cost  more  than  I  have  any 
means  of  getting,"  said  Elton,  with  a  sigh.  "  It's  very 
clear  I  am  not  to  be  a  college  man  and  I  must  make 
up  my  mind  to  it  with  as  little  regret  as  I  can." 

Wyllis  went  and  looked  out  of  the  window  with  a 
thoughtful  air,  which,  however,  immediately  vanished. 
A  young  lady  was  passing  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
street,  and  he  threw  her  a  kiss,  to  which  she  returned 
a  bright  smile. 

"  I  want  to  look  into  your  case,  »f  you'll  let  me  "  he 
«aid,  when  he  came  back.  "Where  are  you  staymg  r*1 

"  Nowhere  in  particular,"  Jack  confessed.  "  I  only 
arrived  in  Boston  this  morning." 

"  Well,"  said  Wyllis,  thoughtfully.  Then,  after  a 
moment,  "  Would  you  do  me  a  favor  ?" 

"  If  I  can,  I  shall  be  only  too  glad  to  do  so." 

"I've  got  through  with  the. old  'varsity,  as  I  told 
you,"  said  Wyllis,  "and  yet  I  am  in  a  quandary  over 
these  rooms.  I  hired  them  for  the  term  before  I 
decided  to  quit  and  I've  got  to  pay  for  them.  It 
seems  a  pity  to  lock  them  up,  and  beside,  I  have  get 
things  I  would  rather  were  personally  attended  to. 
There  will  be  letters  delivered  here,  which  I  might 
lose,  and — " 

He  paused  to  see  if  Elton  caught  the  idea.  It  was 
evident  he  did,  by  the  rich  color  which  swept  over  hit 
face. 

"  Excuse  me,"  he  said.  "  I  cannot  misunderstand 
your  offer.  It  is  made  in  kinaness,  I  am  sure  but  I 
could  never  think  of  accepting  it" 


AS  on  WAT  TO 

Wyllis  looked  distressed. 

"  You  know  me  so  little,"  he  said,  "  that  my  prop* 
osition  doubtless  seems  sudden.  But  you  must  look 
at  things  squarely  as  they  are.  You  have  come  more 
than  a  thousand  miles  with  a  certsan  object.  Tke  care 
of  these  rooms  may  seem  disagreeable  to  you,  at  first 
thought,  (though  the  janitor  does  everything)  but  you 
should  not  be  too  proud.  I  knew  a  fellow — a  very 
nice  fellow,  too — who  waited  on  table  for  his  board 
and  got  high  rank  at  last." 

Elton  caught  eagerly  at  the  suggestion. 

"  I  would  do  that,  too,"  he  said.  "  I  am  not  proud. 
I  will  do  any  honest  work  to  get  an  education.  All  1 
object  to  is  anything  that  looks  like  charity." 

"  Spoken  like  a  hero  !"  cried  Wyllis.  "  That's  the 
sort  of  talk  I  like  to  hear.  The  table  racket  can't  be 
worked  now,  though.  They've  got  nothing  but  nig- 
gers here.  Besides,  it  wouldn't  help  you  in  the 
preparation.  If  you  are  to  qualify  yourself  for  next 
year  you  will  need  to  work  night  and  day  at  your 
books." 

"  All  of  which  will  bring  me  to  the  same  conclu- 
sion it  has  you,"  said  Elton,  good-naturedly — "  that  I 
must  give  it  up." 

Wyllis  walked  over  to  him  and  laid  a  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

"  Give  it  up !  Then  you  don't  care  for  it  as  I 
thought  you  did." 

Elton  rose  and  confronted  him  with  a  pleasant 
smile. 

"  You  speak  kindly  and  I  will  confide  my  whole 
situation  to  you,"  he  said.  "It  will  cost,  the  dean 
tells  me,  two  thousand  dollars  to  graduate  me,  with  the 
utmost  economy.  I  have  one  hundred  and  fifty-seven 


on  WAT  to  Ktmn  BJJLTAJD.  e* 

dollars  and  some  odd  cents  towards  the  amount.  It 
will  take  but  a  minute's  figuring  to  show  how  much  I 
shall  need  to  accomplish  the  work.  The  only  thing  I 
want  now  is  some  one  to  tell  me  where  to  get  it" 

Wyllis  brought  his  fist  down  on  the  mantel  with 
vehemence. 

"  Now  you  are  growing  wise,"  he  said.  "You  want 
nothing  but  money.  You  have  the  time,  the  inclina- 
tion, the  ability,  I'm  sure,  and  all  you  need  is  the  cash. 
Why  not  borrow  it  ?" 

Elton  came  very  near  making  an  impatient  reply. 
It  seemed  as  if  his  questioner  must  be  making  game  of 
him. 

"Who  would  lend  money  to  a  stranger,  without 
security,  under  such  circumstances  ?"  he  asleep'. 

"  /  will,"  said  Wyllis,  briefly. 

Elton  started. 

"You?"  he  said. 

"Yes,  /.  Here  is  my  card.  I  nave  lately  come  ic« 
x>  possession  of  a  good  deal  of  wealth.  Some  of  it  i« 
n  manufacturing  stock,  some  in  railroads,  some  in 
/eal  estate,  and  some  I  keep  to  loan.  I  am  a  greedy 
fellow,  I  assure  you,  a  regular  Shylock.  You  are  the 
xind  of  chap  I  am  looking  for.  You  are  in  great  need 
of  accommodation  and  will  pay  the  h  ghest  rate." 

Jack  looked  puzzled. 

"  What  rate  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Well,  in  your  case,"  said  Wyllis,  reflectively,  "  I 
ihouid  want  ten  per  cent,  on  the  first  year's  receipts 
ifter  you  get  into  a  paying  practice,  and  some  time  or 
nher,  when  you  find  it  convenient,  you  might  returm 
*he  principal" 

"  Are  you  in  earnest  ?"  gasped  Jack,  catching  at 
,ibe  straw  which  seemed  so  powerless  to  save  hiss* 


44  on  WAT  TO  rarm  KAXYABD. 

"  Could  I  borrow  the  money  of  you  without  incotc 
moding  you  at  all  and  repay  it  later  with  a  handsome 
bonus  ?  Would  you  trust  me  so  far,  with  nothing  but 
my  note  and  my  word  of  honor  ?  For  I  would  repay 
it  to  the  last  sou  with  my  earliest  earnings.  You 
would  be  sure  to  get  it  all  back — unless — unless  I 
should  die  beforehand." 

Wyllis  looked  radiant  as  he  heard  this  partial 
acceptance  of  his  proposal. 

"  Your  problematical  death  shall  not  stand  in  out 
way,"  he  smiled.  "We  money-lenders  have  a  way 
of  securing  ourselves  in  such  cases.  You  must  insure 
your  life  and  make  the  policy  payable  to  me.  I  do 
not  lend  money  so  carelessly  as  you  might  think.  I 
shall  want  a  good  legal  note  and  a  carefully  drawn 
agreement.  You  will  find  me  a  sharper  and,  if  you 
violate  the  bond  by  so  much  as  a  hair's  breadth,  I  shall 
demand  the  pound  of  flesh,  with  whatever  flowage  of 
blood  may  ensue." 

"  How  can  I  ever  repay  you  !"  cried  Elton,  rap- 
turously. 

"  You  will  repay  me  when  the  time  comes,  or  there 
will  be  trouble,"  laughed  Wyllis.  "  I  am  going  to  have 
an  open-and-shut  agreement.  And,  as  this  money  is 
to  help  you  to  a  classical  and  medical  education,  I 
shall  reserve  in  writing  the  privilege  of  stopping 
your  allowance  whenever  I  icd  you  neglecting 
•Mitt." 


CHAPTER  IV 

A    MIDNIGHT   COMPACT. 

All  of  this  conversation  ran  through  Jack's  nead 
again,  as  he  sat  in  his  room  at  Mrs.  Madison's,  on  the 
night  of  his  ride  with  Wyllis.  Four  years  had  passed 
and  he  still  owed  his  living,  his  education,  and  all  his 
hopes  for  the  future  to  the  generous  offer  there  made 
and  accepted.  He  had  passed  his  year  of  preparation 
and  become  successively  a  freshman,  sophomore  and 
junior,  ranking  high  in  each  class.  He  had  seen  his 
benefactor  at  infrequent  intervals,  and  not  long  at  any 
one  time.  The  Boston  banking  firm  of  Brewster  & 
Bassett  had  honored  all  his  calls  for  money,  according 
to  the  arrangement  made  at  the  beginning.  In  leisure 
moments  he  had  studied  medical  works  and  attended 
several  lectures,  besides  seizing  every  opportunity  to 
converse  with  the  physicians  whom  he  met.  He  felt 
that  the  profession  he  had  chosen  was  the  one  to  which 
he  was  best  adapted.  Every  moment  was  bringing  him 
nearer  to  the  life  he  coveted  and  to  those  German 
ichools  where  its  intricacies  can  best  be  learned. 

He  should  have  been  happy  ;  but,  as  has  happened 
to  many  another  man,  the  "  woman  in  the  ~ase  "  had 
come  to  distress  him.  Cora  Madison  :  Sixteen  years  of 
age  .  With  dresses  that  hardly  touched  the  tops  of  her 
little  boots  :  A  girl  still  in  the  Cambridge  High 
School. 

Jack  Elton's  brightly  pictured  career  as  a  doctor 
los-t  most  of  its  beauty  when  he  came  to  know  how 


COMTAOT. 

little  he  would  care  for  it  all  unless  this  girl  could 
share  it  with  him. 

He  had  said  very  little  to  Cora  during  the  year  ne 
had  roomed  at  her  mother's  house,  but  during  the  last 
few  months  he  had  learned  much  of  her.  He  had  dis- 
covered how  utterly  distasteful  she  found  the  cramped 
}ife  which  she  was  compelled  to  lead. 

He  had  seen  her  decline  invitations  to  parties 
because  she  deemed  her  garments  too  poor  or  too  old 
for  the  company  that  would  be  there.  Her  mother's 
income  was  very  slight  and  luxuries  were  out  of  the 
question.  Elton  had  learned  to  bear  poverty  for  him- 
self very  well.  It  had  stood  for  years  like  a  wall 
between  him  and  the  career  he  sought,  and  yet  he 
could  endure  it.  To  ask  this  girl  to  share  it  was 
another  thing  entirely. 

Jessie  and  he  were  fast  friends.  He  was  not  afraid 
of  Jessie ;  she  wasn't  old  enough.  She  used  to  tell 
him  many  things  of  Cora,  running  on  like  the  little 
chatterbox  she  was,  when  once  she  began  the  subject. 

"  I  do  hope  some  awfully  rich  man  will  die  some 
day  and  leave  all  his  money  to  Cora,"  she  would  say, 
"  At  least,  if  he  is  going  to  die,  I  mean  ;  for,  of  course, 
I  don't  want  him  to  die  on  purpose.  My  !  doesn't 
she  love  pretty  things  !  I  don't  think  she  ever  owned 
a  dress  yet  that  she  thought  good  enough  to  go  to 
school  in.  Her  jewelry,  too.  The  same  old  things, 
she  says  that  she  had  years  and  years  ago.  Mamma 
always  praises  Cora  for  staying  at  home  and  helping 
her,  but  it's  not  because  she  likes  housework.  No, 
indeed  !  Give  her  what  she'd  like  to  wear  and  she'd 
go  to  every  party  there  is  in  Cambridge !" 

14 1  can't  befieve  your  sister  is  so  vain  as  all  that," 
SI  ton  would  reply. 


A  KTOHIGinr  COMPACT.  47 

Then  the  cmt  won  d  grow  serious. 

"It's  not  what  you'd  cell  vain,  exactly,  Jack.  I 
don't  know  what  it  is.  She'd  just  rather  not  go  any- 
where than  not  look  as  well  as  the  others,  that's  alL 
As  for  me,  /  never  care  what  I  wear.  Mamma  says  I'd 
as  lief  go  to  church  with  a  gingham  apron  on  as  any- 
thing else." 

"When  you  are  a  young  lady  you  will  change 
about  that,"  Jack  would  answer. 

"  Oh,  Cora  was  always  the  same.  When  she  was  a 
three-year-old  baby  they  say  she  would  cry  if  her  dres« 
didn't  suit.  She  can't  help  it.  Mamma  says  it  was 
born  in  her." 

Would  she  ever  like  him,  even  if  he  had  a  fortune 
to  offer  her  ?  Jack  didn't  know.  It  seemed  doubtful 
There  is  that  in  intense  longing  which  makes  us  aL 
afraid.  Elton  would  have  been  twice  as  much  with 
Cora  Madison  if  he  had  not  been  in  love  with  her. 

He  had  a  fine  sense  of  honor.  He  could  not  try  to 
win  the  girl's  heart,  when  he  had  only  his  empty  hands 
to  offer  her.  Besides,  he  kept  saying  to  himself,  "  She 
is  so  very  young."  That  was  his  only  consolation — 
her  extreme  youth.  Perhaps  before  she  became  of 
marriageable  age  something  might  happen.  Who 
could  tell  ? 

He  could  not  sleep  and  at  eleven  o'clock  he  went 
out  with  the  intention  of  taking  a  short  walk.  It  was 
a  very  warm  night  and  he  found  Mrs.  Madison  on  the 
piazza. 

"Going  out,  Mr.  Elton?"  she  said.  "Isn't  it 
rather  late  ?" 

"  It  is  so  warm, '  he  explained,  "  and  I  am  not 
sleepy.  I  thought  I  would  take  a  turn  or  two  up  the 
•treet." 


"If  you  were  going  nowhere  in  particular,"  said 
the  lady,  "  you  might  sit  down  here.  There  is  a  good 
breeze  at  this  corner.  I  would  like  to  talk  to  you." 

Jack  sat  down,  much  surprised.  Mrs.  Madison's 
conversation  with  her  lodgers  had  usually  been  limited 
to  the  compliments  of  the  season  and  a  "  Thank  you," 
when  she  received  her  rent 

"You  know  Mr.  Claude  Wyllis,  I  understand,"  said 
Mrs.  Madison. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Jack. 

"You  know  he  is  to  marry  Miss  Vaughan  in 
October." 

"Yes  ;  he  told  me  to-night" 

"  Have  you  been  acquainted  with  him  for  a  long 
time  r 

"  About  four  years." 

"  And  you  like  him  r" 

"Very  much,"  said  Jack,  warmly. 

"  I  am  glad  for  Belle's  sake  she  is  to  do  so  well," 
said  the  lady.  "  He  is  very  rich  "  (here  Jack  winced) 
"  and  his  family  is  one  of  the  oldest "  (here  Jack 
winced  again)  "  and  most  respectable  in  the  State,  I 
am  told.  I  have  always  taken  a  great  interest  in  Belle. 
She  was  born  here  in  Cambridge.  Her  mother  died 
when  she  was  very  young  and  her  father  always  seemed 
the  most  unfortunate  of  men.  He  tried  in  every  way 
to  make  a  fortune,  but  was  drowned  six  or  seven  yean 
ago,  somewhere  in  South  America." 

Mr.  Elton  grew  quite  interested. 

"  Miss  Vaughan  could  not  have  been  over  fifteen 
years  old  at  that  time,"  he  ventured.  "  Very  young  t» 
be  left  entirely  alone  in  the  world." 

"  Yes,"  assented  Mrs.  Madison,  "  and  how  she  has 
jot  along  has  always  puzzled  «»  Sht  was  with  him 


A  mramnrf  OOXPIOT.  49 

in  that  South  American  place  when  he  lost  his  life.  Tt 
nas  been  said  that  his  death  was  not  an  accident — that 
he  did  it  purposely.  The  story  was  at  the  time  that 
he  had  been  gambling  and  lost  his  last  dollar." 

"  Very  unfortunate  for  such  a  young  girl  to  be  left 
alone  among  strangers,"  Jack  suggested. 

It  was  not  like  him  to  pry  into  other  people's 
affairs,  but  in  this  case  he  resolved  to  learn  all  that  he 
could  and  felt  justified  in  doing  so. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  widow,  "  it  was  hard  on  poor 
Belle.  I  did  not  hear  of  her  again  for  the  next  three 
of  four  years  and  had  come  to  suppose  she  was  dead, 
100,  when  one  day  she  walked  into  the  house  here, 
grown  up  to  be  the  handsome  woman  you  have  seen. 
She  dropped  a  hint  about  some  wealthy  gentleman 
having  adopted  her  or  taken  an  interest  in  her  friend- 
less condition.  Of  course  I  couldn't  ask  questions.  I 
was  in  pecuniary  difficulties  at  the  time  and  she  offered 
me  what  I  neede  d.  She  is  a  most  generous  girl  and  I 
am  sure  no  one  will  ever  suffer  when  she  gets  to  be  a 
rich  man's  wife." 

Poor  Mrs.  Madison  !  She  is  always  "  in  pecuniary 
difficulties,"  as  most  of  her  friends  had  occasion  to 
know. 

"  Miss  Vaughan  is  very  handsome,  is  she  not  ?"sh« 
said,  as  Elton  did  not  seem  inclined  to  speak. 

"I  presume  so," he  replied,  haltingly.  "I  hardly 
know.  I  am  no  judge." 

"Everybody  thinks  so,"  said  the  widow.  "Whea 
she  came  Home  first  from  the  South  I  thought  the 
rtudents  would  break  the  door-bell  She  went  every- 
where, to  ball  after  ball  and  reception  after  reception. 
There  was  a  carriage  in  front  of  the  house  every 
moment  she  was  here,  I  really  believe.  I  never  saw 


5O  A  MIDNIGHT   COMPACT. 

another  girl  as  vivacious  as  she  was.  She  has  become 
much  more  sedate  now  —  partly  on  account  of  her 
engagement,  I  suppose." 

Elton  made  no  response. 

"Cora  thinks  there  is  no  one  like  her,"  continued 
Mrs.  Madison.  "  Belle  has  been  very  good  to  her— 
made  her  lots  of  presents  in  the  way  of  clothing  and 
fancy  things.  They  are  sleeping  together  to-night,  like 
two  sisters,  and  to-morrow  they  are  going  to  make 
calls.  Why,  what  is  the  matter  with  you,  Mr.  Elton?*' 

If  Jack  had  been  warm  when  he  came  out  of  doors, 
he  was  on  fire  now.  His  throat  had  swollen  until  noth- 
ing but  the  forcible  removal  of  his  necktie  saved  him 
from  strangulation. 

"I  am  not  well!"  he  ejaculated,  hoarsely,  "and  I 
must  beg  you  to  excuse  me.  A  stroll  will  make  me 
feel  better." 

He  staggered  down  the  walk  and  out  to  the  street, 
while  the  good  landlady  mentally  gave  the  same  reason 
for  his  complaint  that  Wyllis  had  done  in  jest. 

"It's  the  boat  rowing,"  she  decided.  "I  must  give 
him  a  caution  or  he'll  be  down  sick.' 

Jack  walked  over  to  Jarvis  Field  and  threw  him- 
self on  the  ground.  The  night  had  grown  cloudy  and 
no  one,  not  within  a  few  feet,  could  see  him. 

"  What  a  mother ! "  he  muttered  to  himself.  tt  And 
Cora  is  sleeping  with  that  woman,  and  will  show 
herself  all  over  Cambridge  and  Boston  with  her 
to-morrow !  Good  Heaven !  It  will  make  me  wild  ! 
I  believe  everything  they  say  about  her,"  he  went  on 
to  himself.  "Everything!  She  is  not  fit  to  breathe 
the  same  air  with  Cora  Madison  !  But  I  am  helpless ! 
Oh,  what  can  I  do— what  can  I  do  ?  " 

For  an  hour  he  wrestled  with   his   thoughts  and 


A  MZ2WWMT  OQKPAOT.  SI 

could  ftna  no  escape.  Then  he  arose  and  walked 
moodily  back  to  Mrs.  Madison's  house.  As  he  came 
to  the  corner  of  the  fence,  a  woman's  figure  rose 
suddenly  from  the  shadow  of  a  tree  and  raised  a 
warning  finger, 

"  Hush  !"  it  said.  "  Everyone  ia  the  house  Is  sound 
asleep.  No  one  knows  I  am  out  of  doors.  I  have  a 
word  to  say  to  you." 

"  Say  it, '  he  said,  sternly,  "  and  quickly  !" 

"  You  are  my  enemy  !"  said  the  figure.  "  I  knew 
it  the  moment  I  saw  you.  You  would  rob  me  of  the 
friendship  of  these  people  here,  if  you  could  ;  yes,  and 
of  the  man  whose  promised  wife  I  am  !" 

"  Miss  Vaughan — "  he  began. 

"  Stop  !"  she  interrupted,  hardly  above  a  whisper. 
"  Speak  lower.  I  overheard  all  Mrs.  Madison  said 
to  you  to-night.  I  know  what  construction  you  put 
upon  her  story  of  me.  It  matters'  not  that  you  are 
wholly  wrong,  for  it  is  not  at  present  in  my  power  to 
prove  it  to  you.  You  cannot  stop  my  marriage.  You 
may  make  my  friends  in  this  house  turn  the  cold 
shoulder  to  me  for  a  little  while,  but  that  will  not 
harm  me  in  the  end.  Mr.  Elton,  I  warn  you  not  to 
interfere  in  affairs  which  are  none  of  your  own  !" 

He  drew  himself  up.  There  was  light  enough  for 
her  to  see,  two  feet  away,  the  scornful  look  in  his 
face. 

"You  love  Cora,"  she  continued.  "You  shall 
narry  her.  She  will  take  my  advice  when  the 
moment  comes.  Don't  wasU  words  in  denials/'  she 
added,  as  he  tried  to  speak.  "  I  saw  it  the  moaent 
you  entered  the  parlor  this  evening.  If  you  wish  to 
be  let  alone,  you  must  let  me  alone.  Attempt  to  crash 
me,  and  we  shall  see  who  can  crush  the  harder  f" 


M  "MOW  DID  rou  LZTX  M  JBABLf 

Elton's  mind  was  in  a  tumult 

"  What  do  you  say  ?"  she  demanded.  "What  shall 
H  be  between  us — peace  or  war  r" 

"  I  have  one  condition  that  must  be  complied  with 
before  I  answer,"  he  said. 

"  And  that  is—" 

"  That  you  leave  this  house  to-morrow  morning," 

"I  agree,"  she  said,  a  spasm  crossing  her  hand- 
some features.  "  And  after  that — " 

"  So  long  as  your  name  cannot  be  in  any  way  con- 
nected with  Miss  Cora,  I  shall  have  no  motive  to  ham 
you." 

"It  is  a  bargain  !"  she  whispered,  and  vanished 
into  the  house  like  a  shadow. 


CHAPTER  V. 

*  HOW  DID   YOU  LTVI  IN  BRAZIL  r* 

The  next  morning,  when  Isabelle  Vaughan  awoke, 
feer  eyes  rested  on  the  face  of  Cora  Madison,  still  in 
the  depths  of  a  peaceful  and  profound  slumber.  The 
countenance  was  one  that  would  have  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  most  callous  spectator,  but  to  Miss 
Vaughan  it  had  at  the  moment  a  surpassing  interest. 
It  was  in  truth  a  beautiful  face,  lying  as  it  was  on  the 
dimpled,  curved  arm  of  its  owner,  with  its  pure  com- 
plexion, long  lashes  fringing  the  closed  eyes  and  the 
rosebud  mouth  parted  just  enough  to  display  the  pearly 
treasures  beyond  the  lips.  CouW  it  have  been  trans- 
ferred to  canvas  it  might  well  have  been  labelled, 


""MOW  DID  YOU  LOT  IV  BXASH.F'  tt 

"  Sleeping  Innocence."  The  slight  bosom  ros«  and  fcl. 
with  the  girl's  regular  breathing,  rustling  the  narrow 
lace  on  the  neck  of  her  chemise  like  the  waving  of 
summer  grasses  under  the  gentle  caresses  of  the  south 
wind.  Woman  as  she  was,  Miss  Vaughan  was  power- 
fully affected  by  the  spectacle  and,  yielding  to  an 
impulse  she  could  not  resist,  she  startled  the  sleeper  in- 
to sudden  wakef  ulness  by  clasping  her  in  her  arms  and 
imprinting  a  kiss  on  her  cheek. 

"  Ah,  it's  you !"  gasped  the  astonished  maiden, 
opening  her  eyes  wide.  "  Is  it  very  late  ?" 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  think  it  must  be  very  early," 
was  the  reply,  "  and  I  have  committed  a  gross  cruelty 
in  waking  you.  I  did  not  mean  to  do  it.  The  act 
took  place  before  I  had  time  to  form  a  resolve." 

The  girl  threw  her  disengaged  arm  around  her 
friend's  neck  and  returned  her  kiss  with  warmth. 

"  I  am  glad  to  be  awakened  when  I  find  you  here  !" 
she  said.  "  I  wish  you  could  stay  always." 

"  You  would  tire  of  me  much  sooner  than '  always,' " 
smiled  Miss  Vaughan,  a  little  sadly.  "And  besides," 
she  added,  "  you  forget  that,  in  a  month  and  a-half 
more,  another  will  hold  a  claim  upon  me." 

Cora's  happy  look  disappeared  instantly. 

"A  month  and  a-half,"  she  said.  "Why  do  you 
allow  him  to  take  you  so  soon  ?  He  should  wait 
another  year.  You  are  too  young,  Belle.  Why,  you 
•re  only  twenty-one.  It  is  terrible  to  be  chained  up  at 
twenty-one  !' 

The  girl's  perfect  ingenuousness  charmed  her 
friend. 

"  Look  out  you  are  not  wearing  the  same  kind  of 
chains  yet  earlier  !"  she  said,  mockingly.  "  Some  mas- 


§4  "MOW  Dm  YOU  LOT  or  num.!" 

culine  heart  will  surely  be  captured  by  those  brigb£ 
eyes  of  yours  long  ere  four  years  have  flown." 

Cora  tried  to  laugh,  but  she  colored  in  spite  of  her- 
self. 

"  Don't  be  foolish,  Belle.  Mamma  tells  me  every 
day  I  am  a  mere  child  and  I  don't  think  she  will  con- 
sider me  old  enough  to  get  married  before  I  am  forty. 
We  shall  agree  on  that,  if  on  nothing  else.  It  is  under- 
stood between  mamma,  Jessie  and  I,  that  I  am  to  be 
the  old  maid  of  this  family." 

Miss  Vaughan  smiled  roguishly. 

"  I  am  glad  one  pair  of  ears  I  could  mention  are 
not  listening  to  those  words,"  she  said. 

"  Whose  ?"  cried  Cora,  sitting  up  in  bed  and  look- 
ing thoroughly  startled.  "  Ah,  but,"  she  added,  draw- 
ing a  deep  breath,  "  how  silly  I  am  !  You  are  joking, 
of  course  !" 

"  Indeed,  no  !"  replied  Belle,  determined  to  try  th« 
effect  of  a  bold  move.  "  Can  you  think  of  no  young 
gentleman  whose  heart  beats  faster  when  you  are  neai, 
whose  tongue  fails  him  when  he  tries  to  speak  to  you, 
whose  eyes  follow  your  every  motion  ?  Honest,  now, 
can't  you  ?" 

"  Not  one,"  replied  Cora,  growing  rosier,  neverthe- 
less. "  Not  one  ;  and  I  must  have  noticed  it,  bad  such 
a  thing  occurred." 

Miss  Vaughan  nestled  into  her  pillow  and  smiled 
up  at  the  earnest  face  above  her. 

"  Then  I  will  not  set  your  bosom  to  palpitating  by 
telling  you,"  she  said.  "  For,  mark  my  words,  he  will 
tell  you  himself  before  long." 

Cora  bent  down  caressingly  and  kissed  her  com- 
panion between  the  eyes. 

"  Oh.  Belle,  darling,  do  tell  me—that's  a  good  girl ; 


-  HOW   DID   TOU   LIV*  IH   BXJJEIL  P  (6 

That  is,  tell  me  who  you  think  it  is,  for  I  know  yen  arc 
entirely  mistaken.  I  never  can  guess  anything  and  I 
should  hunt  through  the  whole  directory  in  vain." 

u  The  city  directory  or  the  college  directory  r"  asked 
Miss  Vaughan,  meaningly. 

"  The  college  directory  ?" 

"Yes,  the  college  directory.  The  senior  class— 
for  instance,  the  lodgers  at  Mrs.  Madison's — perhaps," 
Belle  proceeded,  slowly.  "  There — now  you  have  it  !** 

Cora  shook  her  head  in  a  puzzled  way. 

44  Not  Mr.  Binden  ?"  she  queried. 

"  Not  Mr.  Binden,  of  course." 

"Not  Mr.  Danforth — no,  for  he  is  engaged  to  a 
lady  in  Brookline." 

"  Not  he,  for  he  is  engaged  t»  a  lady  in  Brookline," 
drawled  Belle,  provokingly. 

"Those  are  our  only  seniors,"  said  Cora,  "except — 
Oh,  Belle,  you  don't  mean  Mr.  Elton  ?  Why,  he  never 
looks  at  me  !" 

Miss  Vaughan  laughed  aloud, 

"  Say — is  it  Jack — dear,  good  Jack  ?  Then  you  have 
made  a  very  natural  mistake,  dearest.  He  is  engaged 
to  Jessie  and  he  can't  marry  us  both." 

Cora  seemed  much  relieved  when  she  had  uttered 
this  witticism. 

u  I  am  wiser  than  you,  my  dear,"  Belle  said,  4<  and 
my  specialty  is  love  affairs.  Now,  I  am  going  to  tcU 
f  ou  seriously,  and  there  is  no  need  of  it's  making  you 
zry,  either,  that  Mr.  Jack  Elton  loves  you  and  that  the 
reason  why  he  says  so  little  to  you  and  acts  so  con- 
strained when  you  are  near  is  because  he  loves  you. 
He  finds  Jessie  interssting,  because  sh«  is  Cora's 
sister.  You  are  very  young  yet,  little  girt,  but  I  did 


99  "HOW  DID  TOU  UTV  or  BKAZH.P 

think  you  were  old  enough  not  to  be  misled  ia  suci  8 
positive  case  as  this.' 

Then  Cora  became  very  sober  and  said  :  "  Belle, 
dear,  you  ought  not  to  make  fun  of  Jack,  for  he  is  ceo 
of  the  best  young  men  I  ever  knew.  He  has  had  aa 
awful  hard  time  in  life,  worked  at  all  sorts  of  rough 
things,  living  on  farms,  and  he  never  had  any  polish 
until  he  came  to  Harvard.  He  studies  with  all  his 
might  and  means  to  be  at  the  head  some  day,  and  I 
am  sure  he  will.  He  is  to  be  a  doctor — one  of  th« 
best  kind,  like  those  who  live  on  Boylston  street, 
opposite  the  Public  Garden,  and  charge  ten  dollars 
for  feeling  your  pulse.  As  soon  as  he  gets  through 
college  he  is  going  into  the  Medical  School  and  then 
to  Germany.  His  clothes  are  not  very  elegant,  (they 
are  as  good  as  mine  though,  for  that  matter)  and  there 
are  things,  I  know,  he  feels  backward  in  ;  but  he  is 
dreadful  good — and — Belle,  I  wish  you  wouldn't — " 

She  paused,  noticing  for  the  first  time  the  odd 
combination  which  beamed  from  Miss  Vaughan's 
roguish  eyes. 

"  Go  on  !"  cried  that  young  lady.  "  You  are  doing 
excellently  !  Champion  him  all  you  can  !  If  he  could 
hear  you  now  he  would  have  little  fear  of  your  threat 
•of  being  an  old  maid  !" 

But  she  could  not  induce  Cora  to  join  in  her  mer- 
riment. 

"  Did  you  really  mean  it  ?"  asked  the  girl,  in  a  tcro* 
vhich  showed  how  seriously  the  matter  affected  her. 

"Mean  it,  my  darling?'  cried  Belle,  folding  her 
§.rms  around  her.  "  Every  word  !  I  am  a  prophet- 
ess ;  I  can  foresee  events  ;  and  I  tell  you,  Cora,  the 
cay  will  come  when  Jack  Elton  will  hold  you  in  hi> 


"SOW  DID  YOU  LOT  Df  BB4UDL  P  17 

arms — *%  I  do  now — and  kiss  away  the  olushes  oft 
these  chevkfe — as  I  am  doing." 

Cora  gave  a  little  scream  and  tried  gently  to  dift* 
engage  herself.  The  imagery  was  too  real. 

"Oh,  Belle,  that's  awful!"  she  said. 

Then  Miss  Vaughan  laughed  again. 

"What  would  you  expect?"  she  asked.  "What 
kind  of  a  husband  would  you  want— one  who  would 
never  embrace  you  ?" 

"  I  don't— think  I— would  want  one— at  all !"  said 
Cora,  her  voice  trembling  at  the  newly-awakened  emo- 
tions. "  But,  Belle,  are  you  sure  Jack  cares  for  me  ? 
I  have  admired  him  so  much.  How  many  times  I 
have  wished  I  could  tell  him  how  brave  he  seemed  to 
me,  fighting  out  his  way  in  life,  with  everything 
against  him  ;  but  I  always  thought  he  avoided  me 
Could  it  be  that  he  was  afraid,  as  you  seem  to  believe, 
and  that  he  really  liked  me  all  the  while  ?" 

Her  companion  felt  the  tears  coming  into  her  eyes 
as  she  listened.  In  every  woman's  heart  there  is  a 
spring  of  salt  water,  if  only  the  proper  vein  be  touched, 
and  Isabella  Vaughan,  whatever  Jack  Elton  might 
think,  was  a  woman. 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,  Cora,"  she  said,  earnestly.  "  I 
know  it.  I  know  more  than  I  oan  tell  you.  Mr.  Elton 
does  not  like  me  ;  he  thinks  he  has  reason  to  hate  me, 
but  there  he  is  wrong.  After  I  am  gone  he  may  urge 
you  to  give  up  f  nendships  that  y  DU  prize.  Understand, 
I  am  not  criticising  him — he  does  what  ha  thinks  is 
right — but  his  likes  or  dislikes  of  others  have  nothiig 
to  do  with  this  matter.  He  loves  you,  of  that  be  cer- 
tain. Watch  him  and  prove  it.  Some  day,  when  he 
gains  courage  to  tell  you  so,  when  he  has  a  home  and 


68  "MOW   DID   YOU   LOT   F5   BRAZIL?" 

a  livelihood  to  offer  you,  write  and  tell  me  I  predicted 
well." 

She  arose  and  began  to  dress  herself;  and  Cora, 
quite  pleased  at  all  she  had  learned,  did  likewise. 
When  they  had  partly  finished,  a  tap  on  the  door  a» 
nounced  a  visitor.  It  was  only  little  Jessie. 

"I  came  to  tell  you  mamma  says  you  needn't 
hurry  any,"  said  the  child,  seating  herself  in  one  of 
the  big  chairs.  "There's  only  ourselves,  you  know, 
and  it  makes  no  difference  whether  we  breakfast  late 
or  early.  I've  been  up  an  hour  and  out  of  doors,  but 
I'm  not  hungry — at  least,  not  very.  I've  been  for  a  long 
walk,  too,  up  to  Memorial  Hall  to  wait  for  Jack,  and 
then  over  into  Norton's  woods  with  him,  after  flowers. 
Jack  is  awful  blue  this  morning  about  something,  I 
don't  know  what.  He's  just  as  pleasant  as  ever,  but 
he  seems  to  be  thinking  and  thinking  to  himself. 
Sometimes  I  had  to  speak  to  him  twice  before  he 
would  hear  me." 

She  paused  a  moment  and  then  burst  out — 

"  What  a  pretty  bride  you'll  be,  Miss  Vaughan  !" 

Miss  Vaughan  gave  a  start. 

"  Well,  Jessie,"  she  said, "  you  are  the  queerest  little 
girl  and  say  the  most  unexpected  things  of  any  child 
I  ever  saw  !" 

"Oh,  but  you  will/"  persisted  Jessie.  "  You've  got 
thtfatrest  arms  and  neck — " 

"Stupid  one  !"  called  out  Cora,  "brides  don't  show 
their  arms  and  necks.  They  wear  tulle  or  nun's  veiling 
or  white  satin  or  something  else,  clear  to  chin  and 
gloves." 

"  Oh,  well,'  said  Jessie,  unabashed,  "  perhaps  tnej 
/* — at  the  church  ;  but — " 

"  Yo»V*  better  sot  get  up  for  such  early  walks  very 


"VOW  DID   YOU   XJTO  Hf   BRAZIL  F'  59 

•ften,"  suggested  Cora.  "  You  are  getting  altogether 
too  wise  for  your  years." 

Miss  Vaughan  seemed  to  find  this  conversation 
vastly  amusing. 

"  When  Cora  gets  married,  Jessie,"  she  suggested, 
wyou  must  pay  attention  to  all  the  details  of  dress,  and 
then  there  will  be  no  possibility  of  your  making  mis- 
takes/' 

"  Cora !"  sneered  the  child,  with  a  pout  "  Nobody 
11  ever  marry  her.  She  snaps  folks  up  too  much  I" 

This  made  Miss  Vaughan  laugh  again. 

"  I  heard  something  about  you,  Jessie,"  she  said 
"  I  heard  you  were  engaged— to  Mr.  Jack  Elton." 

Jessie  was  not  the  least  bit  taken  aback  by  this 
wholly  unexpected  statement. 

"Well,  if  nobody  else  marries  Jack,  I  will,  if  he 
wants  me,"  she  said,  with  a  very  grave  face. 

Cora  exchanged  glances  with  her  friend. 

"  I  think  that  will  do  for  the  present,  Jess,"  she 
said.  "  Run  and  tell  mamma  that  we  will  be  ready  in 
tet>  minutes." 

Jessie  vanished. 

"  What  a  bright,  winsome  little  thing  she  is  !"  said 
Miss  Vaughan.  "One  can  never  tell  what  she  is 
going  to  say  next.  There  is  a  great  deal  in  your 
little  sister,  Cora,  and  some  day  she  will  grow  into 
a  remaikable  woman.  Look  out  she  isn't  your  rival 
by-and-by  !" 

"  I  can't  forget  what  you  said  about  Jack,"  said 
Cora.  "I  am  very  foolish  to  talk  about  love — I  am 
not  seventeen  into  a  fortnight — and  I  am  sure  I  don't 
understand  very  much  about  such  things  ;  but  I  d« 
like.  Jack,  and  if  I  thought  I  could  help  him  in  any 
w»~  T  would  give  anything  to  do  it  It  is  not  a  send- 


00  WMOW   DID  YOU   LIFE   Df   BBAttL  P 

mental  feeling,"  she  continued,  growing  red  agai* 
under  the  quizzical  glances  which  her  friend  bestowed 
upon  her,  "  only,  he  is  so  noble,  so  unselfish,  I  cannot 
help  admire  him.  He  seems  to  have  no  intimates  and 
Jessie  is  the  only  girl  he  ever  cares  about  being  with, 
If  I  could  do  him  any  good — " 

Miss  Vaughan  kissed  the  small  mouth,  which  had 
begun  to  tremble  a  little. 

"  You  can  make  or  unmake  him,"  she  said, 
seriously.  "  Show  him  from  now  on  that  his  success 
is  of  interest  to  you.  It  is  easy  to  do  that  without 
forwardness.  Let  him  see  that  you  do  not  avoid  him. 
Treat  him  fairly  and  openly.  Try  this  for  one  montn 
and  let  me  hear  the  result.  It  is  true,  my  dear,  that 
you  are  very  young.  It  is  also  true  that  by  the  time 
he  has  returned  from  his  German  hospitals  you  will 
be  much  older.  Who  knows  how  much  inspiration 
the  thought  of  a  sweetheart  waiting  here  for  him 
might  be  to  a  lonesome  student  four  thousand  miles 
away !" 

The  girl  returned  the  kiss  and  they  went  down  to 
the  dining-room  with  their  arms  around  each  other's 
waists.  Mr.  Jack  Elton  was  there,  but  Belle  did 
not  see  him  until  he  had  taken  in  the  friendly  atti- 
tude. 

The  surprise  and  shock  was  mutual.  Elton  was 
instantly  angered  at  what  he  considered  Miss 
Vaughan's  deception.  When  he  saw  her  last  she 
promised  to  leave  the  house  the  next  morning.  There 
was  yet  time  for  her  to  keep  her  word,  but  he  had 
understood  she  would  avoid  undue  intimacy  with 
Cora. 

Belle  divined  his  thoughts  with  the  speed  of  the 
electric  current.  Cora,  not  in  the  least  suspecting 


MOW   DID   TOTJ   LmE   I»    BRAZIL  tT  01 


what  passed  in  the  minds  of  the  other  two,  felt  startled 
at  seeing  so  unexpectedly  the  person  of  whom  she  had 
just  been  talking  in  such  a  strain.  It  was  a  most  awk< 
ward  meeting  for  all  three.  The  greetings  were  con- 
Strained  ones  and  Cora  felt  a  heartache  at  noti&g 
what  seemed  a  colder  manner  on  Elton's  part  than 
ever  before. 

He  was  merely  paying  his  room  rent  and  the  receipt 
of  the  landlady  had  just  been  handed  to  him.  He 
started  to  withdraw,  when  Miss  Vaughan  stepped  for- 
ward and  with  admirable  finesse,  said  : 

"  I  will  bid  you  good-by  as  well  as  good-morning, 
Mr.  Elton.  I  have  decided  that  I  must  attend  to  cer- 
tain business  matters  in  New  York,  which  will  neces 
sitate^my  leaving  Cambridge  to-day." 

"  Leave  to-day  !"  cried  the  entire  Madison  family 
in  one  breath.  "  We  thought  you  would  stay  until 
Saturday,  at  least  !" 

"  It  will  be  impossible,"  said  Miss  Vaughan,  watch- 
ing Elton  narrowly.  "  I  have  thought  it  all  over  and 
I  must  go." 

She  tried  to  have  him  see  in  her  eyes,  which  were 
turned  toward  him  alone,  that  she  meant  to  keep  her 
faith. 

"  So  it's  good-by  to  you  now,"  she  added,  "  until 
October,  when,  I  understand,  Mr.  Wyllis  will  require 
your  assistance  rn  an  important  occasion." 

She  tried  to  look  modest,  but  to  him  she  appealed 
brazen.  He  did  not  like  her  better  on  acquaaCAnce. 
There  came  ringing  through  his  brain  the  thought  of 
the  previous  night.  "I  believe  everything  they  say 
about  her  !  Everything  !  —  everything  !  !" 

He  said  good-by  with  difficulty.  His  education  in 
the  art  of  dissimulation  was  very  imperfect.  If  it  bad 


"MOW   DID   YOU   LOT   IK   BSAZTL  f 

in  the  Harvard  curriculum  he  would  have  failed! 
cf  his  degree. 

When,  several  hours  later,  Miss  Vaughan  tore  her- 
t elf  away  from  the  friends  who  felt  genuine  sorrow  at 
her  departure,  she  pressed  an  envelope,  unseen  by  the 
sHldren,  into  Mrs.  Madison's  hand.  There  was  one 
hundred  dollars  in  money  in  it  and  a  note  requesting 
chat  it  might  be  spent  mainly  for  Cora,  but  in  such 
a  way  that  she  should  not  suspect  its  source.  Cora 
was  too  proud  to  have  accepted  such  a  gift  and  Miss 
Vaughan  knew  it. 

At  the  Boston  &  Albany  station  on  Kneeland  street 
she  was  about  to  enter  the  drawing-room  car  for  New 
York  when  Elton  confronted  her. 

"  You  have  ten  minutes,"  he  said,  hurriedly,  "  and 
I  have  something  important  to  say  to  you." 

"  Very  well,"  she  responded,  with  external  com- 
posure, "  we  will  walk  down  the  platform." 

"  You  have  left  Mrs.  Madison,  as  you  promised,"  he 
said,  when  they  were  alone.  "  What  you  may  have 
done  before  you  left  your  chamber  this  morning  I  do 
not  know  and  I  do  not  ask — " 

"  It  was  nothing  against  you,"  she  interrupted,  "  as 
you  may  some  day  know." 

"  As  I  said,"  he  continued,  "  I  do  not  know  and  I 
do  not  ask.  What  I  wish  to  tell  you  now  is,  I  regret 
my  contract  with  you  last  night.  I  thought  then  only 
of  myself.  I  should  have  thought  also  of  another — 
»f  one  to  whom  I  owe  all  I  am  and  all  I  hope  to  be." 

A  look  of  sudden  intelligence  crossed  her  fea 
tures,  but  he  did  not  see  it.  His  eyes  were  riveted  o« 
the  platform. 

"What  do  you  demand ?"  she  asked,  in  firm  tones 
41 1  am  very  calm,  sir.  There  are  things  I  should  coo- 


"HOW  DID  v«u  LIVE  m  BBAZIL?"  63 

cede  and  there  are  others  I  should  refuse.  If  you  have 
anything  to  ask  of  me,  consider  carefully  before  you 
utter  the  words." 

"  I  have  to  think  of  my  friend,  Mr.  Wyllis,"  said 
Elton,  without  raising  his  eyes. 

"  Well,  cannot  your  friend — let  us  say  my  friend — 
take  care  of  himself  ?" 

"  No,"  he  answered.  "  Not  in  a  case  like  this.  He 
is  hypnotized." 

She  felt  inclined  to  laugh — it  seemed  so  absurd — 
but  she  restrained  herself  and  only  said  :  "  Well  ?" 

"  You  were  left  a  friendless  orphan  girl  in  South 
America  at  fifteen  years  of  age." 

"  Yes." 

"  How  have  you  lived  since  that  time  ?  It  is  a  plain 
question.  I  want  a  plain  answer." 

She  looked  askance  at  him  and  saw  that  he  was 
immovable. 

"  Perhaps  on  borrowed  money — as  you  do." 

He  winced  a  little. 

"You  are  not  answering  me,"  he  asserted,  not 
relishing  her  reply.  "  You  say  '  perhaps.'  Let  me 
also  offer  a  '  perhaps.'  Perhaps  it  it*u  on  the  wages  of 
*HAME  !" 

She  controlled  herself  with  a  mighty  effort. 

"  You  are  a  bold  man  to  say  that  to  me  !"  she  said 
*  Why  do  you  cast  down  your  eyes  ?  Look  up  !  I  want 
to  see  the  appearance  of  a  man's  face  who  can  offer  a 
woman  an  insult  like  that  !" 

He  answered  her  challenge  and  she  searched  his 
face  with  flashing  eyes. 

"You  have  insulted  me  beyond  all  bounds,  Mr. 
Elton,  but  I  will  answer  you.  If  you  insist  on  know- 
ing on  what  money  I  lived  after  my  father's  death  you 
3 


61  "HOW   DID  TOT   LOT  IN   BBA22L  P 

cay  come  to  New  York  five  weeks  from  to- Jay.  Jfcw 
will  find  me  at  this  address." 

She  handed  him  a  card. 

"  I  shall  come,"  he  said,  "  before  October  pth,  the 
date  set  for  Claude  Wyllis'  marriage.  If  I  am  satisfied 
then,  it  will  be  all  right.  If  not — " 

"I  know,"  she  nodded.  "You  will  forbid  the 
banns.  Write  or  telegraph  the  day  before  you  come, 
lest  I  should  be  absent  from  the  city." 

The  conductor  was  calling :  "All  aboard  !"  The 
big  bell  in  the  depot  had  sounded  its  one  stroke. 
People  were  looking  at  them  from  the  car  windows. 
She  turned  toward  her  coach  and,  with  instant  thought 
that  many  eyes  were  on  them,  placed  her  hand  in  his 
for  a  hasty  good-by  It  was  icy.  With  all  her  out- 
ward calmness  Isabelle  Vaughan  had  gone  through 
the  severest  mental  strain  in  those  few  moments. 

About  a  week  later,  as  Cora  Madison  was  walking 
slowly  along  Kirkland  street,  just  at  dusk,  on  her  way 
home  from  a  friend's  house,  an  old,  bent  woman,  en- 
veloped in  a  garment  which  answered  for  cloak  and 
hood,  and  with  a  stout  cane  on  which  she  leaned, 
hobbled  toward  her. 

"  Pretty  lady  !  pretty  lady  !"  she  called,  in  hoarse 
accents.  "  Let  me  tell  your  fortune !  I  will  give  you 
a  good  one  for  a  very  little  piece  of  silver." 

Cora  paused  and  searched  her  pockets.  Where  u 
the  young  girl  who  can  resist  hearing  her  fortune  told 
by  a  gypsy,  even  though  she  believes  the  whole  raco 
to  be  deceivers  ?  But  in  Cora's  niiJid,  at  the  moment 
she  heard  the  hag's  voice,  the  image  of  Jack  Elton 
was  supreme.  With  the  quickness  of  her  youth  it  had 
Ifrown  there  hour  by  hour  ever  since  Isabelle 


;  "TOW  DID  TOV  XJYS  nr  BKJLEIL  P  M 

Vaug ban's  words  had  first  aroused  the  slumbering 
instinct. 

"Will  she  tell  me  anything  about  Jack?"  was 
Cora's  thought.  She  produced  a  dime  and  held  it  ia 
her  fingers  while  she  spoke. 

"  If  you  will  give  me  a  true  fortune  you  may  hay* 
this." 

The  old  woman  took  the  girl's  hand  in  hers. 

"Ah,  here  is  the  best  thing,"  she  said,  "this  beauti- 
ful ring,  (it  was  an  amethyst).  Let  me  look.  Ah  !" 
She  nodded  her  head  several  times.  "  I  see  a  hand- 
some lover  here — a  tall,  dark  man.  He  has  many 
books.  He  will  learn  to  make  fine  medicines  and  you 
will  love  him  dearly.  Yes,  I  see  you  lying  in  his 
arms,"  said  the  witch,  peering  into  the  translucent 
stone.  "  I  see  you  lying  on  his  bed." 

"In  life  and  death?"  faltered  Cora,  handing  her 
the  money. 

"  In  life  and  death,"  repeated  the  crone,  solemnly. 

Cora  did  not  believe  in  gypsy  powers  of  divination, 
but  she  was  much  affected  by  the  strange  occurrence. 
Her  spirits  rose  and  she  found  herself  very  happy 
before  she  reached  home.  Elton  bowed  to  her 
politely,  as  she  crossed  the  piazza,  though  the  sad 
look  was  still  in  his  face. 

"  If  you  only  knew,  you  dear  Jack  !"  she  laughed 
to  herself.  "  I  am  fated  to  be  youn,  ir  life  aad  death, 
cad  who  can  stand  against  Fate  JF* 


•oicrmm  TUBES  n  A 
CHAPTER  VI. 

SOMETIMES  THREE   IS  A   CROWD. 

As  the  day  set  for  the  marriage  of  Claude  WyEit 

&*~i  Isabelle  Vaughan  drew  near,  the  expectant  bride- 
groc  n  grew  more  and  more  uneasy.  He  had  not  set 
eyes  jn  his  fianc6e  since  the  night  when  she  so  per- 
empurily  dismissed  him  at  Mrs.  Madison's  gate.  AH 
communications  between  them  (and  very  brief  they 
were)  i.ad  been  in  writing.  When  only  a  fortnight 
remaintu  he  wrote  her  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary 
a  meetin^  should  take  place  without  further  delay. 

"I  do  .iot  even  know,"  he  wrote,  "whether  you 
design  thai,  .ire  shall  be  married  in  the  highest  style  of 
the  art  or  in  he  plainest  manner  known  to  the  profes- 
sion. I  have  .iot  dared  invite  a  single  friend,  lest  yea 
should  put  y<jt*r  veto  on  publicity.  If  invitations  are 
to  be  sent  out,  the  time  is  now  all  too  short  f»r  that 
purpose.  Then  there  is  the  marriage  settlement,  on 
which  we  agreta.  For  Goodness'  sake,  Belle,  don't 
be  a  captious  wretch  and  compel  me  to  put  myself  and 
fiends  into  a  queer  situation  !  Send  me  word  where 
I  can  see  you  and  whether  I  shall  bring  along  a  lawyer 
or  two,  a  caterer,  a  milliner  and  a  florist." 

To  this  he  finally  icceived  answer  that  he  might 
present  himself  at  the  Gilsey  House  in  New  York  on 
the  morning  of  September  3oth,  with  as  many  lawyers 
as  he  pleased,  but  with  iioue  of  the  other  function- 
aries of  which  he  had  written,  "  I  hope  you  didn't 
think,"  she  wrote,  "  that  I  intended  making  a  spectacle 


THXXX  n  A  OXOWD.  §7 

of  myself.  All  the  witnesses  I  wish  present  are  those 
made  necessary  by  the  law,  and  you  will  oblige  me  by 
not  providing  a  lot  of  lookers-on  from  among  either 
your  masculine  or  feminine  acquaintances/ 

So  it  was  that,  on  the  morning  designated,  one  of 
the  little  parlors  of  the  Gilsey  held  three  persons  and 
no  more,  while  certain  documents  were  signed  and 
certain  papers  of  value  transferred.  And  it  also  hap- 
pened that  Miss  Vaughan  was  about  to  withdraw  in 
advance  of  the  others,  when  she  was  arrested  by  a 
request,  made,  audibly,  that  she  would  remain  for  a 
moment  after  the  attorney  had  departed.  As  she 
could  not  decline  without  attracting  remark  from  a 
stranger,  she  complied,  and  a  moment  later  the 
strangely  assorted  couple  were  alone  together. 

"  Have  you  any  choice  regarding  the  clergyman  ?" 
asked  Claude>  the  minute  the  door  closed,  feeling 
intuitively  that  he  could  hold  her  there  no  longer  than 
actual  business  required. 

"  None  whatever,"  she  said,  eyeing  him  with 
supreme  indifference. 

"  You  care  nothing  for  denomination — " 

"Any  authorized  Protestant  will  do  for  me 
Colonel  Mitchell  will  be  there,  and  I  hope  yoi  wil. 
•onsider  that  sufficient." 

"But  Jack  Elton — you  don't  know  Jack — or,  per 
haps  you  may,  though;  he  rooms  at  Mrs.  Madison's,  at 
Cambridge.  He  is  an  old  friend  of  mine — " 

She  stopped  him  with  a  deprecatory  gesture. 

**  If  we  are  to  have  old  f  riendr  I  could  bring  fi 
thousand.  I  don't  want  him." 

"Very  well,"  he  said,  and  paused. 

"  Is  that  all  ?"  she  asked,  rising. 


"Yes,"  ke  said,  hesitatingly.  "Only— where  do 
you  wish  to  go  ?" 

"  To  go  ?"  she  repeated,  and  then  seemed  to  compre- 
hend, "  Oh,  anywhere.  A  long  way  off.  Not  near 
New  York." 

He  looked  pleased. 

"  To  Europe  ?"  he  suggested. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  Chicago  ?    St  Louis  ?    San  Frandico  ^ " 

"  Montreal." 

She  settled  it  with  a  word,  as  she  did  everything 
else.  It  seemed  to  make  no  difference  to  her  whethet 
it  pleased  him  or  not.  To  a  looker-on  he  might  have 
been  taken  to  be  her  servant  or,  at  the  most,  her  con- 
fidential man  of  business. 

"  I  will  have  tickets  ready  for  Montreal,  then,"  he 
said.  "  And — shall  we  stay  in  that  city  long  J" 

She  gave  an  impatient  toss  of  her  head. 

"How  should  I  know?  How  you  do  catechise 
me  ?"  Then,  as  she  had  her  fingers  on  the  door-knob, 
she  asked,  "  What  was  the  date  to  be  ?  I  have  for- 
gotten." 

Wyllis  stared  at  her. 

"  October  pth  ;  just  ten  days  from  to-day.  It  was 
your  own  selection." 

A  fear  that  she  would  find  an  excuse  to  postpone  it 
rose  in  his  mind. 

"  October  pth,"  she  mused.  "Oc-to-ber  pth.  Why 
wait  so  long ?  Why  not  make  it  to-morrow  ?" 

He  could  scarcely  believe  his  ears.  To-morrow! 
His  impulse  was  to  spring  to  her  and  tnank  her  for  tht 
great  boon,  but  he  restrained  himself. 

"As  you  please,"  he  answered,  diplomatically. 

"  To-morrow  morning,  then~-" 


*  At  what  hour  r 

'  Very  early,"  she  said,  thoughtfully.  a  Very  eai  Ij 
bideed.  What  time  does  the  first  train  leave  v' 

"  At  8  o'clock,  but—" 

"  You  must  be  here  at  a  quarter  past  six  sharp,  witk 
your  minister.  Don't  tell  me  it's  early — I  know  what 
hour  it  is.  Colonel  Mitchell  will  be  present" 

She  was  gone. 

It  was  quite  as  well.  He  was  about  to  ask,  "  Why 
not  this  evening  ?  Why  not  this  afternoon  ?  Why  not 
rtrw?"  It  was  quite  as  well  she  had  gone. 

He  went  to  the  Fifth  Avenue,  where  his  luggage 
was,  and  began  to  pack  his  clothes.  It  seemed  like 
helping  to  hasten  the  time  when  he  should  find  Belle 
speeding  off  to  Montreal  with  him  on  the  lightning 
express.  There  were  things  to  buy,  and  he  went  out 
on  Broadway  and  bought  them.  He  got  his  tickets. 
"  For  two,  if  you  please,"  he  told  the  agent,  in  a  gay 
voice.  "  Pullman,  sir?"  asked  the  man,  "  Yes,  a  com- 
partment," said  he  ;  and  there  was  an  "  I  understand  " 
look  in  the  agent's  eye  as  he  took  the  money.  Wyllis 
was  nearly  at  the  door  when  he  heard  a  voice  calling 
after  him  that  he  had  forgotten  his  change.  He  took 
up  half  of  it,  sweeping  the  rest  back  toward  the  ticket- 
seller  as  if  he  owned  mines.  The  part  he  took  up  he 
gave  to  a  ragged  newsboy  on  the  street,  who  yelled 
"  Morning  papers  !"  at  him. 

He  went  back  to  the  ho  ..el  and  sat  down — to  think. 
Suddenly  an  idea  struck  him  that  made  him  laugh 
immoderately.  He  had  a  paper  in  his  hand  at  the  time, 
and  a  gentleman  near  by  who  held  *ts  duplicate  peered 
over  his  shoulder,  and  then  searched  his  own  copy  for 
the  paragraph  which  had  apparently  caused  his  amuse- 
ment. Wyllis  went  to  the  telegraph  office  and  begaa 


to  write  on  a  blank.  What  he  wrote  seemed  to  please 
him  vastly,  and  he  nearly  choked  with  the  laughter 
that  he  tried  to  conceal.  He  paid  for  the  message  at 
the  counter,  and  a  couple  of  hours  later  got  an  answer 
that  satisfied  him. 

Somebody  asked  him  if  he  had  lunched,  and  he  had 
to  think  a  while  before  he  could  tell.  No,  he  said,  he 
believed  not.  Then  the  Somebody  lugged  him  off  to 
the  dining-room,  and  told  him  news  and  gossip  while 
he  pretended  to  eat.  The  day  dragged  slowly  away 
and  it  was  after  dark  before  he  bethought  himself  that 
he  had  not  as  yet  secured  a  clergyman. 

He  took  a  carriage  and  was  driven  to  the  residence 
of  a  celebrated  divine,  only  to  find  that  the  gentleman 
was  out  of  town.  He  tried  another,  who  was  reported 
at  the  door  to  be  not  well  enough  that  evening  to 
receive  callers  and  would  not  to-morrow  do  just  as 
well  ?  In  a  drug  store  he  took  the  big  directory  and 
copied  off  a  long  list  of  addresses.  The  first  man  he 
tried  to  see  had  recently  moved.  He  began  to  get 
alarmed. 

At  last  he  found  one — an  old  white-haired  man  of 
most  venerable  aspect.  Yes,  he  would  be  happy  to 
perform  the  ceremony  ;  what  time  would  his  presence 
be  required  ?  When  the  hour  of  six  A.  M.  was  men- 
tioned, however,  he  decidedly  shook  his  head.  "I 
could  not  get  up  before  nine  on  any  account,"  he  said, 
in  his  quavering  voice. 

Wyllis  drove  back  to  his  hoteL  It  was  nearly  ten 
o'clock.  He  went  to  the  night  clerk  with  his  trouble, 
He  told  him  he  wanted  a  minister  at  six  o'clock  the 
next  morning  at  the  Gilsey  House,  to  marry  a  couple 
who  must  depart  on  the  eight  o'clock  train.  Was 


n 

there  no  clergyman  iq  the  hotel  who  could  be  appealed 
to.  The  case  was  imperative  and  money  no  object. 

There  was  one — the  young  and  ambitious  pastor  of 
a  Hoboken  church — who  frequently  spent  a  night  at 
the  Fifth  Avenue  in  order  to  get  an  early  train  for  the 
country,  where  he  was  brought  up.  He  had  to  get 
such  a  train  the  very  next  morning,  and  it  would  not 
inconvenience  him  at  all  to  stop  at  the  Gilsey  for  so 
good  a  purpose.  All  this  the  young  minister  said, 
when  they  found  him,  and  more.  Wyllis  experienced 
a  relief  which  amounted  to  positive  joy. 

He  went  to  bed  and  slept.  It  was  a  sleep  of 
dreams,  not  of  rest.  At  five,  when  the  servant  called 
him,  according  to  orders,  he  sprang  to  the  floor  with  a 
bound.  This  was  that  longed  for  "to-morrow  !" 

Arriving  at  the  Gilsey,  he  ran  across  Colonel 
Mitchell  on  the  stairs,  and  astonished  that  gentleman 
by  the  effusiveness  of  his  welcome.  Together  they  re- 
paired to  the  little  parlor.  The  young  clergyman 
came  soon  after.  They  talked  a  good  deal  as  they 
waited,  but  nobody  said  anything  worth  repeating. 
It  was  an  odd  party. 

They  thought  Miss  Vaughan  would  never  come. 
Claude  looked  at  Ms  watch  twenty  times.  The  minis- 
ter  looked  at  his,  saying  he  must  not  miss  the  New 
Haven  train.  Colonel  Mitchell  looked  at  his  and  com- 
pared it  with  the  others.  At  the  very  last  moment 
Miss  Vaughan  appeared.  She  was  dressed  for  travel- 
ling A  young  woman  accompanied  her — also  dressed 
for  travelling.  Nobody  knew  the  young  woman  and 
Claude  wondered  anxiously  who  she  was 

Claude  said  "Yes,"  at  the  proper  places,  with  some 
coaching.  His  bride  had  no  trouble  with  the  re- 
sponses. As  Claude  told  Jack  Elton,  the  words  ra< 


•othiag  to  him.  They  were  only  a  necessary  formal 
Sty  He  was  thinking  in  the  midst  of  the  ceremonj 
where  he  had  better  give  her  the  first  embrace.  He 
iec-ded  to  do  it  in  the  carriage  on  the  way  to  the  sta- 
tion. He  feared  a  refusal  if  he  attempted  it  earlier. 

The  words  were  said.  She  was  his  wife.  Pretend 
M  ejther  of  them  might — pretend  as  hundreds  do  pre- 
tend every  year — they  had  taken  solemn  vows. 

Colonel  Mitchell  and  the  minister  withdrew,  but 
the  young  woman  remained.  Claude  looked  at  her 
inquiringly. 

"  This  is  Helen,  my  maid,"  Mrs.  Wyllis  remarked, 
a  I  hope  you  didn't  forget  to  buy  tickets  for  three." 

She  looked  at  him  with  eyes  which  said  quite  a* 
well  as  words  could  have  done  :  "  You  will  not  mafc? 
a  scene  here !" 

He  could  have  brained  them  both  without  com- 
punction, but  he  only  answered  :  "  I  can  easily  get 
another  ticket  at  the  station.  We  must  hasten  now,  or 
we  shall  lose  the  train." 

The  young  woman  got  into  the  carriage  with  the 
oawly-wedded  couple.  To  have  suggested  a  second 
carriage  for  her  would  have  looked  ridiculous  on 
Claude's  part,  as  his  wife  evidently  wanted  her 
there.  At  the  station  he  bundled  both  women  into  his 
compartment  and  went  to  procure  the  missing  ticket. 
When  he  returned,  Helen  had  stepped  out  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  he  had  time  for  a  question  : 

"  Is  that  woman  to  r.de  in  the  same  compartment 
irith  us  ?> 

«  Certainly,"  replied  Mrs.  WylH*.  "I  am  liable  te 
aeed  her  at  any  time." 

It  was  a  dull  ride,  for  him  ;  not  at  all  like  the  one 
fee  h»d  dreamed  of.  He  alternated  between  tfte 


II 

•saoker  and  the  compartment,  going  to  the  former  for 
comfort  and  to  the  latter  occasionally  for  the  sake  of 
appearance.  Once,  when  he  returned,  the  door  was 
locked  and  it  could  not  be  opened.  The  maid  an- 
nounced in  a  low  voice  that  Madame  was  arranging 
her  toilette.  She  was,  in  fact,  having  her  hair  placed 
in  order.  Claude  went  out  on  the  platform  and  twore 
for  half-an-hour. 


CHAPTER  VIL 

*  I  PftirER  THE  SOFA,"    MX  SAID. 

When  the  train  reached  Montreal  the  streets  were 
lighted.  Claude  stepped  to  where  the  carriage  drivers 
were  gathered  and  said,  "  Brousseau." 

A  man  came  forth  and  with  equal  brevity  said, 
"  Pierre."  Both  words  were  spoken  in  whispers. 
The  bridal  party  entered  the  man's  carriage  and  were 
driven  off  at  speed.  After  what  seemed  an  intermin- 
able ride,  the  horses  stopped  before  a  doorway. 

Mrs.  Wyllis  alighted  and  accompanied  her  hus- 
band without  question  up  two  flights  of  stairs,  where 
they  entered  a  parlor.  She  passed  in  before  him,  and 
as  he  closed  the  door  she  noted  with  some  surprise 
that  he  locked  it  with  a  quick  motion  and  put  the  key 
in  his  pocket 

"  Where  is  Helen  ?"  she  demanded,  in  the  imperi- 
ous way  in  which  she  had  so  long  addressed  him. 

He  laughed  disagreeably. 


T4  "  i  nucra  ns  •OVA." 

"  The  f etnme-de-chambre  has  escorted  the  girl  t» 
her  room,  I  presume." 

"  Ring  for  her  instantly  !" 

"  Oh,  no !" 

He  did  not  take  long  to  say  these  words,  but  their 
effect  was  striking. 

"  If  I  am  not  to  have  my  maid,"  said  the  wife,  in 
tones  of  indignation,  "  let  some  one  show  me  to  my 
rooms !" 

"  These  are  your  rooms,  my  dear,"  he  smiled, 

"Then  I  request  you  to  leave  them  !" 

"But — they  are  also  mine,"  he  answered. 

She  took  a  chair  and  looked  at  him.  The  quick 
deep  breaths  which  came  from  her  red  lips  did  not 
lessen  the  charm  of  her  beauty.  Her  magnificent 
bosom  rose  and  fell,  as  the  waves  of  mingled  emotions 
dashed  over  her  soul. 

"  You  grow  more  lovely  every  hour  !"  he  said,  gaz- 
ing at  her  with  half  shut  eyes.  "  Mon  dieu  !  You 
are  worth  your  price  !" 

She  turned  from  him  then  and  looked  at  the  win- 
dows. He  wondered  whether  she  v  as  contemplating 
throwing  herself  from  one  of  them,  and  he  knew  i:  she 
did  he  would  raise  no  hand  to  stop  her. 

"  I  shall  sit  here  in  these  uncomfortable  garments 
until  you  leave,"  she  said,  without  turning  round. 

"  Unless,"  he  suggested,  slowly,  "  I  tire  of  seeing 
you  in  them,  in  which  case — " 

She  flashed  a  look  at  him  that  would  have  cowed 
most  men. 

u  In  which  case,  you  were  saying  ! — " 

"  I  might  assist  you,"  he  smiled. 

bhe  arose  and  took  a  step  toward  him. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  know  what  I  shall  do  in  another 


moment,  ualess  you  open  that  door  ?  I  shall  scream 
for  help  !" 

"  Scream  !"  he  said,  nodding  his  head  as  if  he 
approved  of  the  suggestion.  "  Scream  !  I  think  the 
people  in  the  house  expect  it.  Scream  with  all  your 
lungs  and  you'll  frighten  no  one,  unless  it  be  poor 
Helen.  Belle,  where  do  you  think  we  are — in  a  Mon- 
treal hotel  ?  Not  at  all !  We  are  at  a  country  house, 
a  good  mile  from  any  other  residence,  and  every  person 
in  the  building  is  employed  by  a  man  who  is  paid  well 
to-night  with  my  money  !" 

She  paled  perceptibly  as  he  proceeded. 

"  And  the  object  of  all  this  ?"  she  queried,  majesti- 
cally, but  with  a  slight  tremor  nevertheless. 

"  What  an  admirable  actress  you  are  !"  he  cried, 
"  to  ask  that  question  as  if  you  meant  it !  I'm  going 
to  ring  for  our  trunks  now,  and  when  the  men  bring 
them  I  shall  have  to  open  the  door.  But  don't  think 
for  a  moment,  my  love,  (here  he  pulled  the  bell-rope) 
that  you  are  going  to  desert  me  on  that  apparently 
convenient  occasion.  The  men  here  cannot  speak  a 
word  of  anything  but  their  Canadian  patois,  and  they 
would  have  no  idea  what  you  were  saying  if  you 
appealed  to  them.  Beside,  they  perfectly  understand 
that  you  must  be  restrained,  should  you  attempt  to 
leave.  To  them,  you  may  be,  for  all  I  know,  a  criminal 
in  custody,  or  an  insane  person.  One  thing  I  can 
guarantee,  they  have  no  idea  you  are  my  true  and 
lawful  bride.  So  don't  make  trouble,  for  it  would  be 
useless." 

The  men  were  at  the  door  and  he  et  them  in. 
His  wife,  so  far  from  attempting  escape,  walked  to 
the  farther  end  of  the  parlor  and  stood  with  her  back 
toward  them.  When  they  had  gone.  Wyitis  locked 


the  door  again  and  returned  the  key  to  his  pocket 
Seeing  that  his  wife  did  not  move,  he  threw  himself 
negligently  upon  a  sofa. 

"Take  your  time,  my  dear,  take  your  time,"  h« 
said.  "  Only — be  reasonable." 

For  several  minutes  the  lady  remained  in  the  posi- 
tion she  had  taken.  Then  she  turned  slowly  to  a  long 
mirror  which  was  set  in  the  wall,  and  surveyed  herself 
in  it  leisurely.  There  is  a  way  women  have  of  regain- 
ing their  moral  courage  by  the  sight  of  their  own 
reflections.  By  the  revelation  of  a  mirror  they  know 
exactly  how  much  they  have  exhibited  of  fear  or 
anger  or  surprise  ;  and  knowing  is  with  them  half  the 
battle.  From  that  vantage  ground  they  can  rally  their 
forces  for  the  next  attack. 

The  mirror  told  Belle  Wyllis  she  had  allowed  her- 
self to  be  betrayed  into  an  excitement  which  was  ill- 
timed.  The  next  thing  her  husband  saw  surprised 
him.  She  was  taking  off  her  bonnet  and  cloak. 

"  That's  very  well  indeed  !"  was  his  comment,  when 
she  had  finished. 

She  had  reorganized  her  scattered  forces,  formed  a 
new  line  of  battle  and  was  ready  for  the  conflict.  The 
next  thing  she  did  surprised  him  still  more.  She  drew 
her  chair — a  big  one  on  castors,  and  covered  in  oil  silk 
— over  to  where  he  lay,  and  rested  herself  as  his  vis-a- 
vis. The  pleasant  smile  in  the  face  to  which  he  looked 
up  startled  him  more  than  anything  else  she  could 
have  done. 

"  So  you  thought  it  necessary  to  lock  me  up,  did 
you?"  she  said.  "A  mediaeval  way  to  use  a  wif% 
truly  !  How  odd  of  you  !" 

Then  she  added,  with  a  grimace  : 


"My  feet  arc  pinched,  Wauld  y«u  miad  aabut- 
toning  my  boots  ?" 

Wyllis  sat  upright  and  looked  at  her.  Hit  smile 
was  gone.  It  was  another  dream  and  he  would  awake 
to  find  it  so  ;  of  that  he  felt  persuaded.  He  stared  at 
her  like  one  fascinated,  but  he  never  offered  to  touch 
her. 

"  Oh,  well,"  she  said,  good  naturedly,  "  I  can  do 
it  myself." 

He  saw  her  reach  down  and  unloosen  the  offending 
buttons.  Then  she  leaned  toward  him  and  kissed 
him.  He  would  have  resisted  had  he  had  the  power. 

*"  You  thought,"  she  was  saying — he  could  hear  the 
words  like  the  sound  of  some  strange  instrument — 
"  because  I  have  kept  you  at  a  distance  during  the 
past  year,  I  was  made  of  ice.  You  couldn't  see  it  was 
necessary — stupid  !  You  were  ready  at  any  minute  to 
explode,  and  I  had  to  be  the  one  to  use  caution  !" 

She  kissed  him  again  and  all  he  could  do  was  to 
fumble  in  his  pockets.  It  took  him  a  good  while  to 
find  what  he  sought,  but  he  brought  it  forth  at  last, 
and  held  it  up  to  her. 

"  What  is  that  ?"  she  asked. 

"The  key  to. the  door." 

She  laughed  gaily  (how  it  jarred  on  his  ea/ — that 
laugh  !)  and  pushed  his  hand  aside,  saying,  "  Why,  I 
don't  want  it" 

He  started  to  rise. 

"  I  will  go  for  Helen." 

She  pulled  him  down  and  put  both  her  arms  about 
his  neck. 

"  I  don't  want  her — unless — for  a  very  little  while. 
If  you  could  get  her  just  long  enough  to  hep  me 
unpack  my  trunks — " 


"  I  will  get  her,"  he  said,  mechanically. 

She  rose  with  him,  still  retaining  a  half 
aad  so  lad  him  to  the  door. 

"  In  half-an-hour  at  the  furthest,  Claude,"  were  UM 
words  that  pursued  him  down  the  stairs. 

He  hunted  up  Brousseau  and  gave  the  directions. 
Then  he  wandered  out  into  the  night  air.  It  was  quite 
cold,  but  he  felt  no  inconvenience.  The  northern 
breeze  relieved  his  hot  temples.  It  was  what  he 
needed.  He  walked  about  under  the  trees.  His 
thoughts  were  incoherent.  Nothing  seemed  reason- 
able. Suddenly  he  found  himself  looking  at  an  upper 
window.  The  room  was  brilliantly  lighted.  Heavy 
lace  curtains  hung  across  the  sashes.  To  the  occu- 
pants of  the  room  the  windows  undoubtedly  seemed 
curtained.  It  was  the  old  mistake.  The  inner  light 
and  the  outer  darkness  served  the  familiar  purpose. 
The  stroller  in  the  grounds  could  see  two  women. 
One  was  assisting  the  other  to  disrobe  from  her  travel- 
ling clothes  and  don  garments  suitable  for  the  house. 
The  watcher  saw  a  white  shoulder  and  arm  and  then 
the  figures  moved  back  out  of  sight.  He  reeled  and 
caught  for  support  at  the  trunk  of  the  tree  by  which 
he  stood. 

The  half-hour  was  gone  and  another  half-hour  with 
it  when  he  crept  up  the  stairs.  His  wife  sat  there 
patiently  awaiting  him,  but  sprang  up  as  he  appeared. 
He  glanced  around  the  room,  inquiringly. 

**  Helen  ?"  she  said,  divining  his  thought.  "  I  have 
told  her  to  retire  and  get  her  rest  I  shall  not  need 
her  again  to-night." 

He  did  not  seem  to  have  any  capacity  for  speech. 
They  were  both  silent  for  several  minutes. 


"  i  raKrxx  THE  KMTA."  Tt 

"Could  we  get  anything  to  eat?"  she  asked,  at 
Int.  *4 1  am  nearly  famished." 

It  was  the  last  thing  he  could  have  expected  her  to 
S&y  and  it  struck  him  as  very  droll.  Hungry  ?  He 
feftd  never  heard  anything  like  that ! 

"  Shall  I  ring  the  bell  ?" 

He  nodded  and  sh<  pulled  the  rope.  A  garcon 
appeared  in  answer. 

"  Quelqu?  chose  &  manger"  said  Claude  to  him,  look- 
ing  at  his  wife.  "  Nous  avons  tres  /aim." 

The  boy  bowed  and  withdrew.  In  a  few  minutes 
he  returned  and  spread  a  table.  When  the  repast  was 
ready  it  was  found  to  be  ample,  but  made  up  of  a 
curious  conglomeration  of  odds  and  ends.  There  was 
plenty  of  wine,  though,  and  everything  tasted  good. 

Belle  sat  on  one  side  of  the  little  table  and  Claude 
on  the  other.  She  acted  as  mistress  of  the  feast,  fill- 
ing his  plate  and  pouring  his  wine.  They  began  to 
«at,  and  after  a  couple  of  tumblers  of  sherry  he  found 
his  voice  returning. 

"  I  like  this,"  she  was  saying.  "  It  seems  like  a  bn 
out  of  Bohemia.  What  one  wants  at  a  supper  is  not 
so  much  high  quality  in  the  viands  as  good  fellowship. 
A  pleasant  companion  is  sauce  to  any  bill  of  fare." 

He  suspected  her  of  irony  and  thought  he  would 
say  something  ugly  : 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "the  most  glorious  meal  I  ever 
tasted  was  in  Paris.  I  had  a  young  girl  for  my  com- 
panion. We  awoke  in  the  night  starving  and  hunted 
in  her  pantry  for  anything  that  would  satisfy  our  hun- 
ger. There  were  only  two  things  there — pickled  pigi 
feet  ?ad  honey,  I  never  enjoyed  another  meal  half  as 


•0  "  i  ntxm  TH»  SOVA." 

Belie  laughed  heartily  She  seemed  to  think  tha 
recital  very  funny  indeed. 

"Pickled  pigs  feet  and  honey!"  she  repeated 
*  That  was  an  odd  combination." 

She  seemed  determined  to  make  him  jolly.  Whea 
the  meal  was  ended  she  went  to  her  trunk  and  pro- 
duced a  package  of  cigarettes.  When  he  stared  at  her, 
because  she  lit  one  for  herself  as  well  as  him,  she 
said  : 

"I  lived  some  years  in  South  America,  All  the 
ladies  there  smoke  them.  Beastly  habit,  is  it  not,  for 
a  woman  ?" 

He  was  contrary  enough  to  reply  that  it  was  a  very 
nice  habit  for  women — of  a  certain  class.  The  little 
French  girl  of  whom  he  had  told  her  used  to  smoke 
hundreds  of  them,  he  said,  with  her  feet  on  the  table. 

She  went  over  and  kissed  him  again.  Was  it  im- 
possible to  make  her  angry  ? 

"  Belle,"  he  said,  "  if  you  mean  that,  I  don't  like  it 
If  you  do  it  for  amusement,  I  don't  object  so  much." 

She  looked  at  him  with  mild  reproach,  but  very 
sweetly  still. 

"  Claude,  are  you  not  my  husband  Y* 

Then  he  broke  out : 

"You  know  very  well  I  am  ;  and  you  know  alto,  il 
I  could  have  got  you  here  on  any  other  terms,  I  would 
mever  have  gone  through  that  supreme  idiocy  !" 

The  woman  gazed  into  his  eyes. 

"  Let  us  forget  it  all,"  she  whisp«red.  "  Let  us  b« 
for  to-night  as  'f  the  ceremony  had  never  beea 
thought  of.' 

He  revolved  that  for  a  little  while  in  his  miad, 
when  he  noticed  that  his  cigarette  was  out  and  ask«d 
tor  for  a  light. 


SI 

She  gave  him  a  new  one  instead,  igmtitg  it 
between  her  ruby  lips.  He  took  it  and  began  to 
smoke  slowly.  After  a  while  she  looked  at  her  watch. 

"  It  is  one  o'clock,  Claude." 

He  did  not  look  toward  her,  but  remarked  that  tie 
bed  was  in  the  other  room  and  she  might  retire  whea 
she  chose. 

"  And  you — " 

"  I  prefer  the  sofa,"  he  said,  stretching  himself  out 
upon  it  with  an  indolent  motion. 

Some  time  after,  he  heard  a  soft  rustling  and  a 
woman's  form  in  white  garments  was  kneeling  by  his 
side.  Rounded  arms  encircled  his  neck  and  a  delicate 
cheek  was  pressed  against  his  face. 

"  Tell  me,  Claude,  that  you  love  me  !" 

"  I  won't  have  this  nonsence,  Belle !"  he  expostu- 
lated, trying  to  disengage  himself  from  her  clasp.  "  I 
really  won't !  I — so  ! — you  used  to  live  in  South 
America,  did  you  ?  Yes,  I  have  heard  of  that !" 

It  hurt  her — those  words — as  he  meant  they  should, 
but  he  was  immediately  sorry  ;  for  all  she  did  in  res- 
ponse to  the  thrust  was  to  press  her  cheek  closer  to 
his. 

"  Come,  Belle,"  he  said,  mere  gently,  "get  to  bed, 
You  will  catch  cold  here." 

"  Do  you  love  me  ?"  she  persisted,  before  she 
would  let  go. 

"  I  shall,  I  very  much  fear,  at  the  rate  things  are 
going  on,"  he  answered,  regretfully. 

She  pressed  a  'o»g  kiss  on  his  lip*  and  left  him 
there. 

He  slept. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

JESSIE    MAKES   A    SHREWD  GUESS. 

The  morning  of  Claude  \Vyllis'  marriage,  Mr.  Jack 
Eiton  found  the  following  letter  awaiting  him  when  he 
down  from  his  room  at  Mrs.  Madison's  : 


"  GILSEY  HOUSE,  NEW  YORK,  Sept.  3o//k,  18 — , 
"  MR  ELTON — Dear  Sir : 

"  When  I  accepted  your  kind  offer  to  come  on  to 
New  York  and  examine  into  certain  matters  of  inter- 
est to  myself  (it  was  at  the  railway  station  in  Boston, 
you  may  remember)  I  did  not  sufficiently  realize  how 
much  I  was  asking  from  a  gentleman  who  was  very 
nearly  a  total  stranger  to  me.  Upon  consideration  I 
have  decided  that  it  will  not  be  necessary  to  put 
you  to  so  much  trouble.  At  another  time,  when  your 
convenience  will  be  more  subserved,  it  will  be  easy  for 
me  to  consult  you.  Your  generous  willingness  to 
sacrifice  your  time  in  my  behalf  will  not,  however,  be 
forgotten. 

"  If  you  should  have  occasion  to  address  me  by  mail, 
vou  will  please  send  your  letters  to  "Mrs.  Claude 
Wy His,  in  care  of  Colonel  Humphrey  Mitchell,  31  Wall 
Street,  N.  Y.,"  who  will  forward  them.  Some  hours 
before  you  receive  these  lines  I  shall  assume  my  new 
title  and  leave  the  country  on  my  wedding  trip.  Cir- 
cumstances made  a  change  in  the  announced  date  seem 
advisable.  New  York  papers  of  Thursday  mormiog 
will  probably  have  brief  particulars. 

"  With  regards,  etc., 

"  ISABELLE  VAUBHAH,' 


JCMIX  MAXJM  i.  BHXXWD  017X81.  83 

Elton's  surprise  was  unbounded,  and  it  was  not 
until  he  had  made  a  journey  to  the  Parker  House  ia 
Boston,  and  seen  the  announcement  in  the  New  York 
dailies,  that  he  felt  sure  the  woman's  Better  was  «o  trick. 
Even  then  he  had  doubts,  as  he  knew  false  notion 
have  sometimes  been  placed  in  newspapers  with  a  pur- 
pose to  mislead.  But  he  reflected  that  it  would  be 
quite  as  easy  for  her  to  hasten  the  marriage  as  to  go 
to  all  the  trouble  which  the  other  arrangement  would 
imply.  Claude  was  captivated.  He  had  wanted  the 
ceremony  to  take  place  fifteen  months  ago.  If  by  any 
luck  it  had  been  made  to  occur  sooner  than  he  ex- 
pected, surely  he  would  not  have  stood  in  the  way. 
Elton  saw  that  Miss  Vaughan  had  outwitted  him,  and 
the  undergraduate  felt  natural  displeasure  at  her  easy 
victory.  He  returned  to  Cambridge  and  was  about  to 
go  to  his  room  when  Cora  Madison  came  toward  him. 
She  had  a  letter  in  her  hand  and  he  knew  what  it  was 
before  she  spoke. 

"You  remember  Miss  Vaughan — why,  of  course 
you  do — and  you  know  her  friend,  Mr.  Wyllis,  also. 
Well,  they  are  married." 

He  could  not  pretend  before  this  girl,  if  indeed  he 
could  before  any  one,  and  he  merely  said  : 

"  I  know  it" 

Cora  looked  a  little  disappointed.  Most  people 
like  to  bear  news. 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  Mr.  Wyllis  wrote  you." 

"  No,  Miss  Vaughan  wrote  me,"  he  replied.  '*  There 
was  some — some  business — I  was  to  see  te — for  her, 
and  she  wrote  me  of  the-  the  change  of  date." 

Some  such  explanation  was  necessary,  as  the  girl 
had  raised  h*r  brows  suddenl-*  when  he  mentioned 
Miss  Vaughan *s  name.  She  seemed  satisfied. 


MJJLE8   A  IBBXWD  OOTDM. 

I 

"Have  you  known  Mr.  Wyllis,  long?"  she  oo*» 
tianed. 

"  For  four  years." 

"Oh,  come  out  on  the  piazza  and  tell  me  all  abovfc 

him !" 

It  was  delicious  to  be  asked  to  talk  to  this  girl 
about  anything,  but  Jack  wished  heartily  it  could  have 
been  on  a  different  subject.  Still,  he  reflected,  no 
other  topic  would  have  been  likely  to  procure  the 
chance  at  all.  He  could  not  remember  when  Cora 
had  held  a  long  conversation  with  him. 

"  I  want  you  to  tell  me  everything,"  she  said,  when 
they  were  seated. 

The  broad  lawn  sloped  toward  the  street  The  tall 
bushes  and  large  shade  trees  hid  them  from  the  gaie 
of  passers.  Over  the  tree-tops  they  could  see  the  tower 
of  Memorial  Hall. 

"  Tell  me  everything  you  can  think  of,"  she  said. 
"  I  have  seen  him  only  once.  I  cannot  think  of  him 
as  a  hero  unless  I  know  his  distinctive  characteristics. 
But  he  is  rich,"  she  added,  reflectively,  "  and  that 
counts  for  much." 

"  Yes,"  said  Jack,  with  a  sigh.  "  He  is  rich  ;  but, 
more  than  that,  he  is  generous." 

Cora  clasped  her  hands  together. 

M I  do  hope  he  will  make  Belle  a  good  husband," 
•he  said,  slowly.  "  She  has  had  a  hard  time  so  far  in 
life,  and  no  one  deserves  happiness  more." 

What  could  he  say  to  her  ? 

u  A  hard  time  ?"  he  ventured. 

"  Yes,  her  mother  died  when  she  was  very  small. 
Her  father,  Captain  Vaughan,  was  of  a  roving  nature 
and  carried  her  about  with  him  east  and  west,  north 
and  south.  He  loved  her — in  hit  way — but  she  n«f»ded 


«  mother.    Then,  when  Belle  was  only  fifteen,  he  died, 
•way  off  in  Brazil,  and  she  was  left  without  a  friend." 

Tears  had  gathered  in  the  girl's  eyes  at  her  own 
recital 

44  It  is  hard  to  be  left  an  orphan,"  said  Jack, 

"  I — forgot"  she  stammered.  "  You  have  had  the 
same  misfortune.  I,  too,  have  lost  a  father,  but  my 
mother  is  left  I  sympathize  so  much  with  those  who 
have  lost  both.  It  is  hard  for  a  boy,  but  how  much 
more  so  for  a  girl." 

He  could  not  help  putting  the  question  which  was 
still  uppermost  in  his  thoughts. 

"  Did  Miss  Vaughan's  father  leave  her  any — any 
money  ?" 

The  girl  shook  her  head. 

"  Nothing,  I  believe." 

"  She  has  done  very  well  for  herself,"  he  suggested. 
He  hated  the  part  he  was  playing.  It  seemed  despic- 
able, and  yet  he  could  not  help  it  "  She  has  not  wanted 
for  means,"  he  explained,  as  the  girl  looked  up  inquir< 
ingly. 

"  No,"  she  responded.  "  There  was  some  one  who 
took  an  interest  in  her,  I  have  heard  mamma  say.  She 
sever  spoke  to  me  of  the  matter  herself." 

It  was  clear  that  the  idea  which  Efcon  had  was 
wholly  out  of  Cora's  mind.  He  could  say  no  more  at 
that  time.  Such  absolute  innocence  abashed  him. 

u  Did  she  write  where  they  were  going — on  their 
wedding  tour  ?"  he  asked. 

"  No,  she  only  said  '  out  of  the  country.'  I  pre- 
iumed  she  meant  Europe." 

"  Then,"  said  he,  "  will  you  not  be  likely  to  cerres- 
with  her." 
Oh,  no,  I  did  not  expect  to.      We  are  not  such 


close  friends  as  that.  I  have  only  seen  her  a  dozet 
times  in  my  life,  and  perhaps  never  shall  again.  There 
Is  something  about  her,  though,  that  has  always  inter- 
ested me.  I  can  remember  Belle  coming  to  see  us  when 
I  was  a  little  thing  in  the  primary  school,  and  I  liked 
her  then.  She  seemed  so  good  and  kind,  I  never  could 
fcave  forgotten  her.  When  she  returned  from  Brazil 
jhe  was  just  the  same.  She  brought  me  a  box  of  curi- 
osities, and  never  seemed  to  feel  she  was  so  much  older 
than  I,  the  way  most  big  girls  do.  When  she  would 
get  a  carriage  to  drive  she  would  often  take  me  with 
her,  and  show  an  interest  in  me  in  a  hundred  little  way?. 
I  never  saw  a  woman  so  thoroughly  unselfish." 

Elton  grew  surprised  at  the  ease  with  which  he 
could  talk  to  Cora.  He  began  to  wonder  why  he  had 
been  afraid  of  her  so  long.  It  was  almost — not  quite 
— as  easy  now  as  talking  to  Jessie. 

"  I  have  heard  she  was  a  great  favorite  in  Cam- 
bridge when  she  first  came  back  from  South  America,' 
he  ventured.  "  I  mean,  particularly,  with  the  college 
boys." 

Cora  bowed  in  acknowledgment  of  the  truth  of 
<his  observation. 

"  Well,  she  was  handsome  and  dashing,  and  you 
know  what  college  boys  are"  She  stopped  and 
laughed  airily  as  she  recognized  the  oddity  of  the  re 
mark. 

"  Of  course,  I  mean  some  college  boys,"  she  ex- 
plained. "  They  have  nothing  to  do  but  amuse  them- 
selves, apparently,  and  they  did  come  after  Belle  in 
swarms.  She  went  out  riding  with  some  of  them — 
it  was  a  relief,  she  told  mamma,  to  see  Christians  alter 
those  years  in  Brazil — but  she  tired  of  it  vr  ry  soon 
One  night  she  came  home  very  angry  on  account  oi 


something  one  of  them  said  to  her  (his  name  WM 
Stetson,  I  believe)  and  she  went  away  the  next  day." 

The  stories  which  Elton  had  heard  were  ascribed 
is  Stetson,  who  was  in  the  Law  School  when  Jack  was 
a  freshman.  The  young  man  thought  for  a  moment 
that  there  might  be  some  redeeming  feature,  after  alL 
But  no,  he  reflected  later.  Her  own  conduct  since — 
the  way  she  had  hastened  her  marriage  and  fled — 
made  out  a  strong  circumstantial  case  against  her. 
He  was  very  glad  she  had  gone  ;  glad  that  Cora  was 
not  likely  to  see  her  soon.  After  he  had  thought  of 
that  awhile  his  own  indebtedness  to  Wyllis  returned  to 
him,  and  it  made  him  sad  to  think  it  might  be  many 
months,  perhaps  even  years,  before  he  and  Claude 
would  meet  again. 

Cora  went  into  the  house  to  assist  her  mother 
What  a  lovable  girl  she  was,  Jack  thought.  How 
sweet  and  innocent !  Could  it  ever  be,  as  Claude  had  ss 
freely  predicted,  that  such  a  treasure  would  be  his  ia 
that  by-and-by  when,  as  a  famous  doctor,  he  was  to 
win  patients  and  gold  ?  Pictures  began  to  frame 
themselves  in  his  brain — of  cozy  sitting-rooms  where 
She  and  he  sat  in  front  of  coal  fires  in  open  grates  ; 
She  with  some  bit  of  fancy  work,  or  a  book,  and  he 
with  his  newspaper,  reading  it  and  glancing  furtively 
t>y  turns  at  Her  face,  lit  up  with  the  dazzling  blaze. 
Pictures  of  a  doctor's  phaeton,  hastening  over  *h« 
roads  at  some  suddei.  call,  with  Her  on  the  seal 
beside  him  for  company.  Pictures — oh  !  there  was 
ao  end  to  the  pictures  that  ^vould  come ;  but  could 
they  ever  be  real  ? 

in  the  midst  of  his  picture-making  little  Jessie's 
curly  head  came  upoa  his  physical  vision,  and  tb« 


text  moment  the  child  sprang  with  the  lightness  «f 
youth  into  his  lap. 

"Jack,"  she  said,  looking  up  into  h.s  eyes,  "what 
were  you  saying  to  Cora  ?  I  never  knew  you  two  to 
talk  so  long  together." 

''  Little  people  mustn't  ask  questions,"  he  responded, 
with  mock  gravity. 

"That's  terribly  eld!"  she  saia,  with  a  pout  "I 
think  a  Harvard  Man — that's  what  you  fellows  call 
yourselves,  Harvard  Men — ought  to  invent  something 
better  than  that.  Come,  honest,  Jack,  what  were  you 
•aying  to  Cora  ?  I'll  bet — "  here  she  paused  as  if  she 
had  made  a  great  discovery — "  you  were  asking  her  to 
marry  you  !" 

Elton  started  up  so  suddenly  that  he  nearly  threw 
Jessie  to  the  floor,  and  stood  there  looking  at  her  as  if 
bereft  of  sense.  She  stepped  back  a  little,  astonished 
at  the  change  which  her  question  had  wrought,  and 
laid  : 

"  I  didn't  hear  a  word — not  a  word — I  just  guessed 
it,  that's  all ;  and  I  won't  tell  anybody — not  a  soul — 
unless  you  want  me  to." 

The  first  intelligent  idea  he  had  was  that  he  was 
frightening  the  child.  He  sat  down  again  and  took 
both  her  hands  in  his. 

"  Jessie,  tell  me,  what  made  you  say  such  a  thing 
t5  that  ?  Didn't  you  know  it  was  very  wrong  ?" 

She  shook  her  head  until  the  curls  fell  over  her 
face,  nearly  hiding  it 

"But  it  is  not  amusing,  Jessie,"  he  went  on,  "and 
y«u  must  never  speak  so  again.  I  am  sure  your 
nether  would  be  very  displeased  if  she  knew  it" 

She  pushed  back  enough  of  the  thick  hair  to  ifcow 
that  she  was  very  sober. 


*  Mamma  is  displeased  at  everything  /  do,"  sht 
*ou/i,  "  I've  got  no  real  friends  at  all,  'cept  you  aad 
Tabby  -'n  'f  you're  going  to  scold.  I  shall  kavt 
aothin  left  but  the  cat !" 

She  looked  so  lugubrious  that  his  countenance 
relaxed. 

"  I  am  aot  scolding  you,"  he  said.  "  You  didn't 
think  how  it  sounded,  I  am  sure.  I  am  going  up  to 
my  class  now  to  recite,  and  I  want  you  to  come  as  far 
as  the  college  ya/d  with  me." 

She  got  her  nat  obediently  and  placed  her  small 
hand  in  his  big  one. 

"  What  makes  you  study  so  awful  much  ?"  she 
asked,  as  they  trudged  along.  "  I  should  think  you 
would  have  learned  all  there  was  before  this  time." 

"  Hardly,"  he  smiled.  "  Did  you  ever  go  to  Gore 
Hall  and  see  all  the  books  in  the  college  library  ?" 

"Yes,"  she  said.  "Don't  you  remember?  You 
took  me  there  one  day,  ever  so  long  ago.  We  had 
to  talk  in  whispers." 

"I  do  remember  no>*,"  said  Elton.  "Well,  if  I 
knew  what  was  in  those  cuousands  and  thousands  of 
books,  I  would  have  but  a  small  part  of  the  learning 
there  is  in  the  world." 

"And  you  intend  to  learn  it  <*///"  said  the  child, 
in  an  awestruck  voice. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  only  a  little.  Let  me  illustrate.  There 
is  a  great  market  in  Boston  ^here  people  go  to  select 
their  dinners.  No  one  person  buys  everything  there, 
but  out  of  the  great  variety  each  one  can  take  what 
he  needs  most.  You  have  been  into  Jordan  ft 
Marsh's.  There  are  acres  covered  with  goods  and  a 
thousand  cltrks  to  wait  ea  you,  but  yon  co^ild  use 


MULEi  A  UUWD  «UKM. 

rery  little  of  all  that  stock  for  yourself,  eren  if  yom 
were  allowed  to  take  what  you  pleased.  That  is  the 
way  with  this  university.  Study  as  hard  and  as  long 
as  I  may,  there  will  always  be  much  that  I  can  nevei 
learn." 

Jessie  tried  to  look  duly  impressed. 

w  How  do  you  know  when  you've  got  enough  ?" 

"  Well,  there  are  certain  things  that  all  wise  men 
agree  a  gentleman  should  know,  and  for  those  studies 
it  takes  four  years.  That  is  the  part  I  am  learning 
now.  And,  after  that,  I  must  study  four  yeaus  more, 
at  least,  to  learn  to  be  a  physician." 

Jessie  drew  a  very  long  breath. 

"I'm  afraid  you'll  be  old  and  die  before  you  have 
any  fun  at  all!''  she  said.  "As  for  doctors,"  she 
added,  sagely,  "  I  don't  think  they're  any  good.  People 
die  just  the  same  for  all  the  medicine  they  give  them. 
Why,  I  know  a  doctor,  myself,  whose  own  father  was 
buried  this  year !" 

She  raised  her  eyes  triumphantly  to  his,  confident 
that  she  had  the  best  of  the  argument. 

"  Everybody  must  die  some  time,"  he  said,  regard- 
ing her  affectionately,  "  but  medical  science  undoubt- 
edly prolongs  life  and  assuages  pain.  I  can  think  of 
nothing  more  worthy  than  a  conscientious  physician, 
and  such  a  one  I  shall  try  to  be." 

The  child  comprehended  his  meaning,  if  she  dij 
cot  clearly  understand  all  his  phrases. 

"  When  you're  a  doctor,"  she  said,  good  naturedly, 
"  I  don't  believe  you'll  Ut  anybody  die  in  your  neigh- 
borhood. I'm  sure  if  anything  ails  me  I  shall  send  for 
you." 

They  laughed   together  at  this  sally,  and  as  the 


91 

college  gate  was  reached  they  parted  there.  It  waa 
the  child's  frequent  habit  to  walk  with  El  tot  and  it 
would  be  hard  to  sav  which  of  them  enjoyed  it  moat 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SHOOTING    BEAR  AT  CAMBRIDGE, 

Jack  had  found  it  so  easy  to  talk  with  Cora  at  his 
*rst  long  trial  that  he  tried  it  again  whenever  oppor- 
tunity offered.  She  noticed  with  pleasure  that  he 
seemed  to  feel  more  at  ease  in  her  presence,  and 
required  little  encouragement  to  pass  an  evening  in 
the  parlor  with  the  Madison  family.  One  evening, 
shortly  after  his  walk  with  Jessie,  Cora  came  out  of 
the  house — by  the  merest  accident,  of  course — just  as 
Elton  was  about  to  leave  the  yard. 

"  A  fine  night  for  a  stroll,"  she  remarked,  looking 
ttfr  at  the  sky,  which  was  filling  with  stars. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  quickly.  "Wouldn't  you  like 
to  walk  a  little  way  with  me.  I'm  going  nowhere  ia 
particular." 

He  wondered  afterward,  and  will  wonder  as  long 
as  he  lives,  how  he  ever  said  it,  but  the  words  were  out 
and  they  brought  a  glad  look  to  Cora's  fap* 

tt  I  should  .ike  it  very  mu^h.  Wait  till  \  speak  to 
seam  ma." 

There  was  no  reason  why  Mrs.  Madison  should  say 
oo,  and  she  did  not.  She  knew  Mr.  Elton  to  be  aa 
exceedingly  well  behaved  young  man,  and  she  believed 
"  His  Private  Character  "  (her  great  hobby)  to  to  efl 


right  The  idea  of  a  possible  love  affair  between  him 
and  her  daughter  never  entered  her  matronly  head, 
Such  a  child  as  Cora  !  To  her  mother  she  was  still  a 
baby  in  frocks.  Jess.e,  if  anything,  seemed  the  elder, 
If  Jessie  could  walk  and  talk  with  Mr.  Elton,  why  not 
Cora  ?  It  is  to  be  doubted  if  the  good  lady  would 
have  raised  any  objection  had  Cora  jumped  into  his 
lap  as  her  younger  sister  was  in  the  habit  of  doing. 

In  five  minutes  the  girl  was  ready  and  they  set  off. 
Oxford  street  and  the  adjacent  avenues  were  as  quiet 
as  any,  and  in  that  direction  they  bent  their  steps. 

Elton  had  never  before  in  his  life  escorted  a  young 
lady.  He  perceived  a  difference  between  the  younger 
Madisons,  if  their  mother  did  not.  But  Cora's  tact 
made  everything  easy.  She  got  him  to  talking  first 
of  the  stars  (she  was  in  astronomy)  and  together  they 
found  the  constellations.  The  general  subject  of 
education  followed — what  she  was  studying,  and  what 
she  expected  to  do  after  she  graduated  from  the 
High  School  the  next  summer.  She  frankly  told  him 
she  longed  for  a  year  or  two  at  some  finishing  school, 
but  knew  her  mother's  finances  would  not  admit  of  it. 
Perhaps,  she  said,  she  could  pursue  her  studies  with 
the  private  help  of  a  lady  whom  she  knew,  who  had 
passed  through  a  seminary,  but  that  was  to  be  decided 
later.  She  said  she  thought  a  girl  ought  to  fit  herself 
in  these  days,  to  earn  an  honorable  livelihood  in  some 
way,  to  which  he  assented.  When  she  asked  him 
what  one  he  would  suggest  he  was  at  a  loss  how  to 
answer.  She  spoke  of  a  lady  physician  of  whom  she 
had  some  knowledge,  but  like  a  true  disciple  of  his 
school  he  discountenanced  tLat  idea.  The  art  of 
medicine  required  the  most  ardent  preparation,  he 
•aid,  and  a  degree  of  physical  strength  which  only 


IMOOTING   BULK    AT   aAMBBUWB.  9 

men  possessed.  There  was  the  profession  of  a  nurse, 
kowever ;  that  required  skill,  and  feminine  hands  were 
often  the  best  at  it  Beside,  it  could  be  made  to  pay 
very  well.  So  she  settled  it  with  a  laugh,  which 
sounded  sweetly  musical  to  him,  that  she  was  to  bs 
a  nurse,  amd  that  he  was  to  recommend  her  to  his 
wealthy  patients.  And  all  the  while  the  Pictures 
kept  coming  up  in  his  mind,  and  he  saw  her  every- 
where you  can  imagine  except  in  a  hospital  or  a  sick 
room.  But  he  could  say  nothing  of  that  to  her — yet. 

Finally  she  got  him  to  talking  of  his  boyhood — 
that  hard  life  of  which  she  had  before  had  an  inkling. 

"  It  was  not  so  very  hard,  though,"  he  said,  "  until 
after  I  got  ambitious.  I  used  to  get  up  at  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  I  have  been  so  tired  at  night  I 
have  fallen  asleep  on  my  bed  without  undressing;  but 
I  did  not  mind  it  then.  I  was  well  and  reasonably 
happy.  I  could  plough  my  two  acres  a  day,  or  reap 
ten  with  a  machine,  and  there  was  a  great  satisfaction 
in  seeing  the  work  well  done.  There  were  real  pleas- 
ures, too,  in  the  dull  season,  when  I  could  take  my 
gun  or  my  fishing  line  and  go  off  into  the  woods.  I 
killed  a  bear  when  I  was  only  twelve  years  old." 

The  girl  showed  great  interest. 

"  A  bear — a  real  live  bear  ?" 

"  Yes,  he  was  a  real  live  bear  when  I  first  saw  him, 
but  a  real  dead  bear  when  I  had  finished.  Do  you 
want  to  hear  about  it  ?  Well,  it  was  this  way  :  One 
morning  the  farmer  for  whom  I  worked  missed  several 
young  pigs,  which  were  kept  in  a  pen  near  fihe  barn  ; 
that  is,  their  mother  was  kept  in  a  pen,  which  was 
pretty  strongly  made,  but  there  was  a  board  off  where 
the  yeung  ones  could  crawl  under  and  run  out  and  in 
as  they  pleased.  It  was  evident  that  a  bear  had  caught 


94  uoornra  BXAB  AT 

the  little  fellows  while  they  were  outside  the  pe».  The 
creature's  tracks  could  be  seen  in  the  soil,  and  a  little 
pool  of  blood  showed  where  he  had  eaten  at  least  one 
of  them.  (Cora  shivered.)  The  farmer  said  he  was 
going  to  town  to  get  a  steel-trap  to  set  for  Master 
Bruin,  as  he  would  be  pretty  sure  to  come  back  the 
next  night  after  more  pork.  I  knew  it  was  not  at  all 
sure  he  could  get  a  trap,  as  a  good  many  people  had 
been  after  them  lately  for  the  same  reason,  be^rs 
being  plenty  that  fall ;  so  after  dinner  I  went  and  got 
his  rifle  and  loaded  it,  saying  nothing  t->  any  one,  for 
I  felt  sure  they  would  stop  me  if  they  knew  what  I 
meant  to  do.  It  was  about  this  time  of  year,  (Cora's 
teeth  were  chattering  now  and  she  was  clinging  tightly 
to  his  arm)  but  considerably  colder. 

"  I  followed  the  bear's  track  for  nearly  two  miles, 
when  I  lost  the  trail,  and  before  I  found  it  sundown 
came  on.  There  is  a  long  twilight  out  there,  but  it  is 
not  good  for  much  to  hunt  up  a  cold  trail  in.  !  was 
much  disappointed,  but  there  seemed  no  help  for  it 
and  I  started  for  home.  I  was  walking  along  as  quiet 
as  you  please,  with  my  rifle  over  my  shoulder,  when 
I  heard  a  branch  snap  a  little  way  from  me,  (Cora 
shivered  worse  than  ever)  and  turning  about,  I  saw 
one  of  the  biggest  bears  ("  Oh  !"  from  Cora)  I  had 
ever  beheld,  coming  right  toward  me.  He  weighed 
five  hundred  pounds  dressed,  but  he  looked  as  big 
as  a  house  to  me  at  that  minute.  Up  he  rose  on  his 
hind  feet,  hardly  more  than  the  length  of  my  gun 
from  me.  I  was  scared — I  don't  dispute  that — but  my 
nerves  were  like  steel.  I  took  aim  at  his  heart — 

Goodness  Cora  !   how  do  you  suppose  I  can  take 
aim  with  you  holding  me  in  that  way  ?" 

It  was  very  ludicrous.     Cora's    imagination   had 


BKAX   AT   OUCKKXD**.  H 

*b«en  so  worked  upon  by  his  description  that  she  al- 
most thought  the  bear  was  right  there  before  them,  at 
the  corner  of  Mellen  street,  where  they  stood.  She  had 
both  hands  clasped  so  firmly  around  Elton's  right 
arm  that  he  would  have  had  no  small  difficulty  in  de- 
fending himself  with  a  rifle  or  any  other  weapon. 

She  unloosed  her  clasp  and  they  laughed  together. 
She  was  very  happy.  The  bear  was  not  there,  but 
Jack  was  ;  and  he  had  called  her  "  Cora." 

"To  finish  my  story,"  said  Elton,  "I  put  a  bullet 
through  his  heart  at  the  first  shot.  When  I  got  home 
the  farmer  declared  I  must  have  fired  at  a  stump  or  a 
fallen  tree.  I  could  hardly  persuade  him  to  go  «ut 
with  me  to  get  the  body,  but  he  did  at  last." 

Cora  took  his  arm  again  and,  as  it  was  growing 
more  chilly,  she  nestled  up  to  him  just  the  least  bit 

"  And  that's  a  specimen  of  the  pleasures  of  your 
childhood,"  she  said.  "  I  think  I  should  have  liked 
the  plowing  and  reaping  better." 

"Oh,  there  were  other  things,"  said  he.  "That 
was  my  most  harrowing  experience.  The  game  I  shot 
was  usually  of  a  milder  kind — deer,  prairie  chickens 
and  that  sort  of  thing.  The  fishing  was  splendid  at 
some  seasons.  I  had  a  boat  of  my  own  and  I  used  to 
spear  fish  by  moonlight  on  the  lowlands,  when  the 
river  was  high.  I  had  another  thing,  too,  that  fur- 
aished  me  with  much  diversion — a  cave  in  the  bluffs. 
Nobody  b^t  myself  was  ever  in  that  cave,  as  far  as  I 
tan  tell.  I  found  it  one  day  while  chasing  a  fox. 
There  was  a  hole  that  you  would  never  dream  te  be 
anything  more  than  an  ordinary  depression  in  the 
rock,  and  I  happened  to  stumble  into  it.  I  fell  on  my 
hands  and  saw  there  was  an  opening  into  some  place 
where  «*  was  light.  So  !  crept  along  and  came  out 


ft  UOOTDTe   TOLL*   AT  OAMMUDOM. 

mto  a  cave  as  large  as  your  mother's  parlor,  into  which 
straggling  rays  of  the  sun  came  through  a  rent  in  the 
rock. 

"  I  was  a  romantic  boy,  then,  with  my  head  full  of 
mysteries,  and  I  contrived  to  buy  and  carry  off  to  my 
cave  a  number  of  things  to  make  it  habitable.  IB 
a  few  months  I  had  a  fire-place  arranged  with  a 
copper  kettle  to  boil  water,  cooking  pans,  a  rude  bed 
and  many  other  adjuncts  of  semi-civilization.  I  used 
to  go  in  there  and  imagine  myself  a  sort  of  pirate 
king  ;  only  I  had  no  crew  of  bandits  and  no  wish  to 
harm  any  one.  I  fixed  a  large  stone  over  the  mouth 
of  the  cave  so  as  to  more  effectually  conceal  it.  And 
there  is  my  home  to-day,  for  I  cannot  believe  any  one 
has  ever  discovered  it,  with  everything,  I  have  no 
doubt,  exactly  as  I  saw  it  last,  five  or  six  years  ago." 

Cora  evidently  enjoyed  the  recital. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  it,"  she  said.  "  Only  I  sup- 
pose there  are  bears  hiding  all  around." 

"  Oh,  no,"  he  replied.  "  The  country  has  been  set- 
tled too  fast  for  that.  It  is  not  likely  there  is  a  beat 
vithin  forty  miles." 

"  Then  I  would  like  it  very  much,"  said  Cora.  "  If 
I  ever  happen  to  meet  you  in  that  vicinity  you  must 
not  forget  to  take  me  there.  Wh*re  is  this  cave,  in 
Minnesota  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Elton,  "  it  is  on  the  Wiivonsin  side  of 
the  Mississippi.  Have  you  eve*-  heard  of  the  Maidec's 
Rock  ?" 

"Where  the  Indian  Girl  jumped  to  deatt-  " 

"  Rather  than  marry  the  man  she  did  not  Inve— -yes, 
that's  the  place." 

Cora  grew  thoughtful  They  were  appror*  !.ia§ 
home. 


"  Us  that  story  true  ?"  she  asked. 

"The  Indians  have  always  claimed  so,**  he  replied, 
evasively.  "  It  is  a  very  pretty  legend,  and  I  see  *• 
ose  in  spoiling  it." 

"  Yes,"  said  Cora,  absently.     "  It  is  very  beautiful." 

She  was  just  seventeen — only  a  child,  as  her  mother 
said — but  she  wanted  very  much  to  beguile  some  littlt 
word  that  sounded  like  love  from  the  lips  of  that  tall 
young  man.  She  did  not  wish  for  a  declaration  ;  she 
would  have  been  distressed  at  a  formal  proposal ;  she 
could  wait  a  long  time  for  that  yet.  But  she  wished 
be  would  say  something  that  she  could  treasure  away 
and  revert  to  afterward  as  to  a  point  on  the  chart  when 
the  vessel  has  sailed  to  its  haven.  He  had  called  her 
"Cora,"  which  might  have  been  purely  accidental. 
Supposing  he  should  kiss — not  her  lips,  but  her  hand 
— when  he  left  her.  No,  he  would  never  do  that. 
Where  among  his  plows  and  his  reapers  could  he  have 
learned  .such  things  ?  She  was  in  no  hurry  ;  she  could 
wait ;  she  knew  he  liked  her ;  but  she  coveted  some- 
thing tangible. 

"  Would  you  have  done  that  ?"  he  asked. 

"  What  ?"  Her  mind  ,  had  wandered  far  from  the 
story  of  Maiden  Rock. 

"  What  Wenona  did  ?" 

"  I  would  surely  rather  die  than  marry  a  man  I 
detested." 

Elton  was  growing  very  bold. 

"And  if  you  loved  a  man — would  you  ge  through 
every  obstacle  to  be  his  bride,  wait  for  him,  if  neces- 
sary, for  years — " 

He  paused.  He  had  already  said  much  more  too* 
he  intended. 


1  AUATSCX    PHOTCXHUTX*. 

« If  I  loved  a  man,"  she  repeated,  slowly,  "  I  mraid 
wait  for  him—; forever  /" 

It  was  not  her  hand  that  he  kissed  then— this 
plowman — but  her  cheek.  He  did  it  so  gently  she 
hardly  felt  his  lips.  More  like  a  brother's  kiss  it  was 
than  like  a  lover's,  yet  it  thrilled  her  through  and 
through. 

He  had  not  meant  to  do  it.  But  who  can  tell  when 
Love  will  burst  its  bars  ! 

"  Good-night,  Cora  !"  he  said  at  the  gate.  It  wa« 
the  same  word  again  ! 

"  Good-night,  Jack  !" 

He  strolled  over  towards  the  college  yard,  wonder- 
ing how  all  the  stars  had  found  out  his  happiness  so 
quickly  ;  for  they  smiled  at  him  as  they  never  had 
smiled  before  wtaen  he  looked  up  into  the  azure  field 
where  they  lav, 


CHAPTER  X. 

AM ATKUR PHOTOGRAPHY. 

The  next  jnorning,  when  Claude  Wyllis  awoke 
from  his  sle<  p  on  the  sofa,  he  saw  his  wife,  fully 
dressed,  arrarging  several  bouquets  of  autumn  foliage 
in  some  tall  vases  upon  the  mantelpiece.  She  was 
doing  the  work  in  the  most  natural  manner,  humming 
a  tune  in  a  very  low  key  meanwhile.  He  saw  her  cut- 
ting the  stems  to  proper  lengths  with  a  pair  of  scissors 
and  placing  each  sprig  so  as  to  give  its  best  effect  to 
the  combination.  No  stranger,  who  had  happened  to 


JJEATXUX  PMOTOORAMrr.  W 

rater  the  room,  would  have  suspected  that  there  was 
anything  peculiar  in  the  marital  relations  of  the 
apparently  contented  and  happy  lady.  Claude  was 
too  astounded  to  say  anything,  and  he  had  stared  at 
her  for  several  minutes  when  Belle,  looking  around, 
noticed  that  he  was  awake  and  came  toward  him. 

He  did  not  exactly  repulse  her,  but  it  was  evident 
that  the  embrace  she  was  about  to  offer  would  be  dis- 
tasteful, so  she  contended  herself  with  taking  a  chair 
near  him  and  asking,  in  the  ordinary  way,  how  he  had 
passed  the  night. 

"  Oh,  elegantly  !"  he  responded.  "  If  you  ever 
slept  on  a  sofa  with  your  clothes  on  you  know  how 
rested  one  feels  in  the  morning  !" 

"  There  was  a  good  bed  in  the  other  room,"  she 
ventured,  gently. 

"Yes,"  he  growled,  "which  you  appropriated  to 
your  own  use." 

"  It  is  a  very  wide  one,"  she  began,  "  and  I  would 
certainly  have  changed  places  with  you  if  I  had 
thought  you  preferred  it  alone." 

A  sneer  crossed  his  lips. 

"Isn't  this  farce  about  played  out,  Seller 

She  looked  at  him  inquiringly^ 

"  You  have  deceived  me  !" 

"  Deceived  you,  Claude  ?" 

"  Don't  be  a  parrot,  I  beg.  You  know  very  well 
what  I  mean.  I  can't  find  any  fault.  It  was  my  own 
cursed  folly  brought  me  here,  but  I  am  not  obliged  to 
pretend  I  like  it." 

She  still  looked  the  question  she  did  not  speak,  and 
he  continued  : 

"  Why  did  I  propose  marriage  to  you — for  love  f 
Weil,  yes,  at  first  that  was  my  reason.  I  did  love  y@u, 


100  JLUITEUB 

as  near  as  I  am  capable  of  loving  any  woman.  I  cer- 
tainly had  a  blind,  reckless  passion  for  you  and  would 
have  exchanged  a  world,  had  I  owned  one,  to  be  one 
hour  in  your  arms.  You  thoroughly  comprehended. 
Be.  You  knew  so  long  as  you  kept  me  at  a  distance 
I  would  dog  your  footsteps.  You  chose  the  proper 
way  to  get  me — or  to  get  my  fortune,  which  was  what 
you  wanted.  Had  you  allowed  me  the  usual  liberties 
of  an  engaged  lover  we  probably  should  never  have 
been  here  as  husband  and  wife.  I  only  repeat  this  as 
a  preface  to  what  I  am  going  to  say." 

He  paused,  to  see  if  she  would  dispute  his  state- 
ments, but  she  did  not.  She  only  looked  at  him. 

"  You  know  how  you  treated  me  for  fifteen  months. 
Had  I  been  a  hound  you  could  not  have  shown 
greater  contempt.  I  was  allowed  to  see  you  but  sel- 
dom, rarely  ever  for  a  minute  alone,  and  then  always 
where  others  could  hear  if  my  voice  was  raised  in  the 
slightest  degree.  What  do  you  suppose  became  of 
my  overpowering  love  under  such  treatment?  It 
evaporated  like  water  under  a  July  sun.  And  still  I 
kept  to  our  engagement.  Was  it  because  I  feared  a 
suit  for  breach  of  promise  ?  No  ;  I  could  have  paid 
in  cash  for  my  folly,  as  I  have  paid  before.  Why, 
then,  did  I  allow  you  to  make  a  fool  of  me  for  more 
than  a  year  after  I  ceased  to  care  for  you  ?  Why  ?" 

He  waited  again.  She  did  not  interrupt,  but  her 
sphinx-like  eyes  never  left  his  face. 

"When  you  named  Montreal  as  the  city  where  you 
would  like  to  spend  your  honeymoon  (he  sneered  as 
he  pronounced  the  word)  I  thought  of  this  house  in 
the  suburbs.  I  have  been  here  before — yes,  with 
women — and  I  knew  I  could  depend  on  its  proprietor 
to  any  extent,  if  he  was  well  paid.  I  wired  him  to 


AlLtTXUX  mOTOGBAPXT.  101 

•end  a  man  to  meet  us  at  the  station,  and  he  did  so. 
When  we  entered  this  room,  and  I  turned  the  key  is 
that  lock,  1  felt  the  first  real  joy  I  had  known  for 
months.  As  I  told  you,  they  are  used  to  screams  here. 
No  one  would  have  interfered,  no  matter  how  loudly 
fou  cried  out." 

He  paused  again,  and  she  said  in  a  very  low  voice : 

"  You  meant  to  murder  me  ?" 

"  No— imbecile  !  I  meant  to  master  you  !  You 
tept  up  your  imperious  ways  after  the  door  was  fas- 
tened. You  issued  your  orders  to  me  as  though  I  were 
your  lackey.  'Open  the  door — instantly  !'  'Send  my 
maid  here  !'  '  Leave  my  apartments  !'  I  meant  to 
work  you  up  to  your  most  violent  temper,  and  then  lay 
hands  on  you.  Do  you  understand  ?  I  would  not 
have  marred  your  handsome,  statue-like  face,  but  I 
would  have  conquered  you  !  I  wanted  to  take  you 
forcibly  in  my  arms,  kiss  you  in  spite  of  your  struggles, 
crush  your  spirit  with  the  greater  brute  strength  which 
I  possess  !  For  that  triumph  over  your  will,  for  that 
moment  when  you  should  lie  exhausted  at  my  mercy, 
I  have  endured  these  long  months  of  contumely. 
Belle,  the  victory  is  youro.  Take  it." 

He  fell  back  on  the  sofa  and  covered  his  face  with 
bis  hands. 

She  stroked  his  hair  gently,  but  he  rose  and  began 
to  pace  the  room. 

"  Of  all  things,"  he  said,  "  I  object  to  being  pitied. 
I  need  not  have  told  you  all  this  story,  but  you  are 
entitled  to  every  line.  Only,  now  I  have  been  mag- 
nanimous enough  to  make  a  full  confession,  don't  pity 
me.  I  can  bear  anything  but  that." 

After  he  had  paced  the  room  awhile  uninterrupted, 
he  came  and  stood  before  her  chair  : 


108 

*  You  out  get  a  iivorce  as  soon  as  you  like,  and 
we  won't  quarrel  over  the  amount  you  are  to  receive 
ia  addition  to  what  I've  given  you." 

She  smiled  up  into  his  clouded  eyes,  and  said : 

"  Is  it  not  just  a  little  too  soon  to  discuss  that  sub- 
ject, Claude  r 

"  What  do  you  want  ?"  he  growled. 

She  looked  very  sweet  and  winning  at  that 
moment 

"You  !"  she  said. 

He  recoiled  and  took  a  step  backward. 

"  Sit  down  here  and  let  me  talk  to  you." 

He  complied  from  very  curiosity. 

"You  remember  little  Cora  Madison,"  she  began, 
"  the  young  girl  whom  you  brought  home  in  your 
buggy  at  Cambridge,  two  months  ago.  Her  mother 
— where  your  friend  Elton  lodged,  you  know — is  a 
dear  friend  of  mine.  When  I  told  her  I  was  engaged 
to  marry  you,  what  do  you  suppose  she  asked  ? 
You  never  could  guess.  It  was  not  if  you  were 
f  oung,  handsome  or  rich,  but — "  What  is  His  Private 
Character  ?" 

"  And  you — "  he  interrupted  ;  but  she  stopped  him 
with  a  movement  of  her  hand,  and  went  on : 

"  Do  you  think  your  Private  Character  was 
unknown  in  Newport  and  New  York?  Why,  you 
have  never  tried  to  conceal  it.  When  I  was  first  seen 
with  you,  friend  after  friend  hastened  to  warn  me.  If 
you  had  worn  a  sign,  reading,  '  Look  out  for  this  man 
— he's  dangerous  !'  it  would  not  have  been  more 
notorious.  And  if  no  one  had  told  me,  I  could  have 
judged  for  myself  the  second  time  we  met.  I  did 
like  you,  or  I  never  would  have  been  here,  but  I  was 
wiac  enough  to  heed  the  warnings,  both  of  my  friends 


108 

and  of  my  own  brain.  When  you  tried  to  kiss  me  in 
the  conservatory  that  night,  you  were  a  wild  maa. 
From  that  moment  I  kept  you  at  bay,  fram  sheer 
aecessity." 

*'  And  after  tbs  marriage  knot  was  tied — " 
"  I  am  coming  to  that.  I  did  not  interrupt  yo» 
and  you  will  give  me  the  same  chance.  When  I  saw 
how  you  rebelled  at  my  bringing  a  maid  with  me, 
i.han  which  nothing  could  be  more  reasonable,  I  got 
a  little  cross,  too.  When  we  came  into  this  room  and 
you  locked  the  door  I  was  for  several  minutes  in  a 
state  bordering  on  alarm.  You  did  not  look  pretty, 
my  dear,  just  then,  and  I  was  not  certain  what  your 
intentions  might  be.  When  you  spoke  about  assisting 
me  to  remove  my  wrappings  in  case  I  declined,  I 
understood  all  at  once,  and  from  that  moment  I  have 
tried  to  be  as  kind  to  you  as  a  true  wife  should.  That 
is  my  whole  story  Claude.  Now  come  and  give  me  a 
kiss." 

He  made  no  move  to  comply  with  her  request, 
but  took  a  chair  a  little  distance  away. 

"  It  is  a  very  pretty  story,"  was  his  comment  on 
her  remarks.  "  You  would  make  a  great  success*  as  a 
writer  of  cheap  fiction.  By-the-way,  did  your  friend, 
the  landlady,  ask  you  what  anybody  else's  Private 
Character  might  be — your  own,  for  instance  ?" 

"  No,"  replied  Belle,  in  a  natural  voice,  as  though 
the  question  were  the  most  ordinary  one  in  the  world. 

"  I  wish  she  had  asked  me"  he  said.  "  I  would  have 
Sold  her." 

She  grew  a  little  paler,  in  spite  of  the  wonderful 
nerve  she  possessed. 

"  What  would  you  have  told  r" 

TU  let  you  know  some  time/  he  said,  with  a  Ais 


lOi  AMATKUB   PHOTOGRAPHY. 

agreeable  grin.  "  I  wouldn't  like  to  spoil  the  happi* 
aess  of  our  honeymoon  with  unpleasant  revelations." 

She  looked  at  him  intently. 

"  How  long  have  you  possessed  the  information  of 
which  you  speak  ?" 

"  Oh,  a  long  time  ;  more  than  a  year." 

"  It  did  not  influence  your  choice  of  a  wife,  then  P 

He  laughed. 

"  Not  at  all.  I  am  not  squeamish.  I  have  lived  a 
pretty  rapid  life  myself,  and  I  never  expected  to  marry 
a  piece  of  alabaster.  In  fact,  I  never  meant  to  marry 
at  all  till  your  shrewd  scheme  led  me  into  it,  and  what 
I  learned  of  your  past  had,  as  you  say,  no  effect.  But, 
I  am  getting  hungry.  It  is  I  who  have  the  appetite 
this  morning.  If  you  don't  object,  I'll  ring." 

After  the  garcon  had  answered  the  bell  and  gone 
again,  Claude  renewed  his  subject.  He  could  see,  in 
spite  of  her  assumed  air  of  nonchalance,  that  his  words 
annoyed  Belle  exceedingly. 

"  Yes,"  he  proceeded,  "  you  might  as  well  know.  I 
met  a  man  one  day  who  had  lived  in  South  America  ; 
somewhere  near  the  city  of  Rio  Janeiro,  I  think.  He 
was  an  entertaining  fellow  and  a  good  story  teller,  for 
a  Spaniard.  (Did  I  say  he  was  a  Spaniard  ?)  He  told 
me  a  lot  of  interesting  things  about  that  country  and 
asked  me  if  I  wouldn't  like  to  buy  some  photographic 
views  of  natural  scenery  there.  What's  the  matter 
with  you,  Belle  ?  you  are  looking  faint  Won't  yon 
have  some  wine  ?" 

He  reached  for  a  decanter  and  poured  her  out  a 
glass,  which  she  drank.  Then  he  proceeded  : 

"Some  of  the  scenes  photographed  were  of  the 
mountains,  some  were  of  the  harbor,  some  of  resi- 
dences, some  of  natives.  They  didn't  interest  me 


AXATK17B  fHOTOeBAPKT.  109 


rouch,  though  I  bought  a  few  to  oblige  the  man,  fa* 
he  seemed  a  nice,  pleasant,  deserving  fellow.  But  he 
had  one  picture  in  the  lot—  one  picture  (Belle,  if  jam 
don't  listen,  you  can't  expect  me  to  talk)  that  waa 
worth  seeing.  It  was  —  but  perhaps  you  would  like  to 
see  it  I  have  it  here  in  my  luggage." 

All  attempts  to  conceal  her  pallor  had  failed  Isa- 
belle  Wyllis.  Had  her  husband  been  about  to  pro- 
duce her  death  warrant,  she  could  not  have  looked 
more  ghastly.  While  he  was  searching  his  trunk  the 
garcon  brought  the  breakfast,  spread  it  upon  the  table 
and  withdrew. 

"  Ah,  here  it  is  !"  said  Claude,  coming  toward  his 
arife  with  a  piece  of  cardboard  in  his  hand.  "  But,  as 
breakfast  is  ready,  and  as  that  is  of  much  more 
importance,  suppose  we  dispose  of  it.  We  can  talk 
about  this  bit  of  Brazilian  scenery  (which  is  really  of 
no  great  account)  at  the  same  time. 

He  drew  his  chair  up  to  the  table. 

"  Here  is  something  appetizing,  Belle.  I  knew  il 
Brousseau  had  time  he  would  give  us  something  fit  to 
eat.  You  will  sit  where  you  did  last  night,  I  suppose. 
Here  is  fish  —  fresh  fish,  looks  good  ;  omelettes  —  these 
French,  wherever  you  find  them,  know  how  to  cook 
an  omelette  ;  cutlets,  chops,  vegetables,  rolls,  fruit, 
wine,  coffee  —  why,  here  is  enough  for  the  hungriest 
wedded  couple  who  ever  fonnd  themselves  with  a  pate 
of  matrimomiaUy  sharpened  appetites." 


10«    "  MOW  onrocxNT  unc  LGOXB  rrnxxx 


CHAPTER  XI. 

"HOW   INNOCENT   SHE   LOOKS   THXMC   ASLEEP  P 

Belle  resolved  to  attempt  the  breakfast  if  it  choked 
her.  She  fortified  herself  with  more  wine  and  nib- 
bled at  the  viands  with  a  poor  show  of  eating,  while  her 
husband  talked  on  : 

"  This  Spaniard  told  me  (let  me  help  you  to  butter) 
that  there  were  only  three  pictures  taken  like  the  one 
I  have  here.  (Do  you  take  two  lumps  of  sugar  in  your 
coffee  ?)  Two  of  the  three  have  been,  he  said,  destroyed, 
but  I  told  him  nobody  can  ever  be  sure  how  many 
duplicates  of  a  photograph  are  in  circulation.  As  he 
had  the  '  only  copy,'  according  to  his  version,  he  put  a 
fancy  price  on  it.  I  actually  paid  the  fellow  (you  are 
not  eating  at  all,  my  dear)  three  hundred  dollars  for 
this  little  picture.  I  don't  believe  a  photograph  so 
small — it  is  only  cabinet  size,  you  see — was  ever  sold 
before  for  so  much  money.  Probably  the  requisite 
combination  of  avarice  and  folly  will  never  happen 
again. 

"  Now  this  little  picture,"  pursued  Wyllis,  drawing 
his  story  out  with  the  set  purpose  of  one  who  length- 
ens deliberate  pain,  "  is  a  very  remarkable  affair.  It  is 
aot  a  picture  of  a  landscape,  nor  of  the  wild  animals 
which  abound  in  Brazil,  nor  of  any  native,  nor  even  oi 
the  Emperor  or  any  court  official.  (Let  me  ring  for 
something  else  Belle  ;  you  really  ought  not  to  go  on 
In  this  way— all  right,  if  you  won't ;  but  you'll  get  ill.) 
It  is  a  picture  of  a  young  lady,  about  seventeen  years 


*  BOW  noKxrar  SHI  LOOKS  THXBE  AMUOT  !"   109 

old,  I  should  judge,  of  a  face  and  form  truly  lovely, 
and  the  peculiar  thing  about  it  is — " 

Mrs.  Wyllis  had  risen  from  the  table  and  stood 
trembling,  with  her  clasped  hands  resting  on  the 
doth. 

"  Stop  !"  she  commanded,  in  a  shaking  voice.  **  Yo« 
have  tortured  me  enough  !" 

He  feigned  astonishment. 

"  If  you  are  not  well,  I  certainly  will  stop.  Another 
time — " 

"  No  !"  she  said.  "  At  no  other  time  .  Never 
again  !  If  you  have  anywhere  lurking  within  you  the 
heart  of  a  man,  you  will  destroy  that  picture  now." 

He  put  his  arm  around  her  and  led  her  to  the  sofa 
where  he  had  slept  the  previous  night.  Then  he  said  : 

"  Destroy  the  picture,  Belle — the  picture  I  paid 
three  hundred  dollars  for  ?  Why,  what  a  whim  !  Ask 
something  reasonable,  but  not  so  absurd  a  thing  as 
that.  I  may  wish  to  show  it  to  my  friends,  by-and- 
by." 

She  caught  her  breath  and  pressed  her  hands  over 
her  heart, 

"The  deepest  pain  of  my  life  center,  around  that 
bit  of  pasteboard  !"  she  gasped  out.  "  It  is  infamous 
of  you  to  keep  it  to  stab  me  with  !" 

Still  he  pretended  ignorance. 

"  To  stab  you  with  !"  he  repeated.  "  Really,  I 
think  your  mind  is  weakening  '" 

He  held  the  photograph  up  to  the  light  and  looked 
at  it  long. 

It  showed  the  interior  of  a  room  with  a  marble 
floor  and  walls  on  which  flowers  were  lavishly  painted. 
On  a  couch  in  the  centre  lay  a  beautiful  young  girl, 
apparently  asleep.  With  the  exception  of  a  sheet 


108    M  MOW  ZNV OOXHT  gHB   LOOK!  THKBB  A1LBKF  I" 

thrown  carelessly  across  her  the  exquisite  form  wae 
nude,  unless  the  long  hair  which  hung  half  to  her  feet 
in  lovely  disarrangement  could  be  said  to  form  a  cover* 
.ng.  The  picture  was  well  executed,  but  showed  s?gnj 
of  wear.  Though  years  had  evidently  elapsed  since  it 
was  taken,  no  one  could  doubt  for  a  moment  that  it 
had  had  for  its  subject  the  unhappy  woman  who  was 
now  pleading  for  its  destruction. 

"  You  are  very  foolish  to  hold  any  spite  against 
that  picture,"  he  said,  after  his  long  and  admiring  sur- 
vey. "  For  if  it  hadn't  been  for  it,  you  would,  in  all 
probability,  never  have  borne  my  name.  I  admi'<sd 
your  beautiful  face  the  first  time  I  saw  it,  and  this  «-ic- 
ture  aroused  in  me  a  determination  to  know  you  more 
intimately.  I  paid  three  hundred  dollars  to  the 
Spaniard  for  it,  and  you  got  fifty  thousand  dollars.  It 
seems  very  unreasonable  in  you  to  complain  !" 

Belle's  white  lips  opened  then  : 

"  If  I — will  give  you  back — that  money — that 
fifty  thousand  dollars — will  you  destroy  the  picture  ? 
I  will  send — for  the  bonds — at  once." 

"  Um — ,"  he  mused.  "  That  looks  like  a  handsome 
offer  ;  but  I  don't  wish  to  take  your  wedding  present 
from  you,  and  I  have  taken  a  great  fancy  to  this 
picture.  I  may  think  favorably  of  the  proposition 
later.  But  tell  me,  dear,  how  you  happened  to  get 
photographed  in  such  a  very  striking  costume  ?" 

An  angry  flush  swept  over  the  woman's  face,  driv- 
ing  out  the  pallor  in  spots. 

"I  will  not  tell  you  !"  she  exclaimed.  "You  ar« 
acting  barbarously  !  I  have  asked  you  for  that  picture 
lor  the  last  t  me !  You  may  think  what  you  pleas* 
about  it !  You  may  exhibit  it  to  every  man  you  know, 


"MOW  rauoeENT  SHE  LOOKS  IHBBS  ABLEST!"   109 

if  you  like  !  It  is  a  picture  of  your  wife,  Claude  Wyllia, 
don't  forget  that !" 

She  looked  superbly  as  she  uttered  these  words, 
with  her  head  thrown  back,  her  heaving  bust  in  full 
relief  and  her  eyes  flashing. 

"  Keep  it !  Show  it  to  your  friends  and  announce 
youf  self  the  wretch  you  are  !  Look  at  it  and  see 
mirrored  on  its  surface  the  face  of  a  man  without 
honor  or  shame  ?  Gloat  over  it  and  find  in  the  depths 
of  your  thoughts  what  a  hideous  thing  a  man  may 
become  when  Vice  has  stamped  him  for  its  own  !" 

He  moved  his  chair  nearer  to  her  and  tried  to  put 
his  arm  about  her  neck.  She  had  never  charmed  him 
as  she  did  at  that  moment.  But  she  drew  back. 

"  Don't  dare  to  touch  me  !"  she  cried.  "  I  am 
roused  now.  There  was  nothing  else  you  could  have 
done  but  this.  You  little  know  what  memories  that 
picture  brings  to  me.  There  were  three  of  them,  as 
the  Spaniard  told  you.  I  know  him — his  name  is 
Manuel  Silva.  Did  he  show  his  bare  back,  on  which 
one  hundred  lashes  were  laid  on  account  of  that 
photograph  ?  The  blood  ran  down  in  streams  ;  I  saw 
it !  So  he  got  three  dollars  each  for  them — cheap 
enough  !  And  he  only  got  free  by  swearing  that  his 
copy  was  destroyed — this  copy  you  were  mean  enough 
to  buy  !  The  second  copy  was  brought  to  me  from  a 
prisoner  who  is  now  digging  in  the  mines  of  Brazil 
with  fetters  on  his  limbs  ;  he  would  have  been  hanged 
had  I  not  interceded  !  The  man  who  had  the  third 
copy  poured  his  life  blood  over  it  at  my  feet !  It  a 
not  a  safe  thing  to  carry  about — that  picture — and  yo» 
may  find  it  so  !" 

He  reddened  a  little. 

M  If  you  think  you  can  frighten  me— M 


110  "mow  ITOOCKHT  SEX  DOOM 

"  Oh,  no  !"  she  answered.  "  I  have  no  intention  ol 
it  The  thing  has  lost  all  significance.  It  was  the  past 
and  not  the  possible  future  that  agitated  me." 

Wyilis  was  tired  of  the  affair  and  yet  he  did  not 
iu«e  to  give  it  up  just  then. 

"  You  are  making  a  great  fuss,  it  seems  to  me,"  he 
said,  "  over  nothing.  I  don't  know  about  these  terrible 
results  that  have  happened  on  account  of  that  picture, 
but  things  have  changed  now.  If  you  had  some  hot 
headed  lover  in  Brazil  who  wanted  to  kill  and  flog 
everybody  who  got  hold  of  a  picture  meant  only  for 
his  personal  eye,  I  can't  help  that.  Of  course,  you 
don't  pretend  you've  lived  the  life  of  a  vestal  from 
your  birth  to  this  hour.  Now,  have  you  ?" 

"  No  !"  she  thundered. 

"  Well,  then,"  he  said,  much  mollified  at  her  confes- 
sion, "  what's  the  use  of  all  this  excitement  ?  I  didn't 
suppose  a  girl  who  was  left  an  orphan  in  a  foreign 
country  could  live  there  three  or  four  years  on  air.  If 
she  happened  to  be  pretty  that  wouldn't  make  her 
appetite  lighter.  As  I  said  a  little  while  ago,  I've 
been  too  wild  myself  to  expect  an  angel  for  a  wife." 

Belle's  disdainful  look  grew  deeper. 

"  Your  friend  Elton  asked  me  the  question  point- 
blank.  '  How  did  you  live,'  said  he,  '  during  those 
years  ?'  I  wonder  you  did  not  employ  a  more  diplo- 
matic tool." 

"  But  I  never  knew  Jack  did  that !"  said  Wyilis.  with 
evident  sincerity.  "  It  was  d — d  rude  of  him,  upon  my 
word  !  And  what  did  you  say  ?" 

"  I  told  him  perhaps  I  lived  on  borrowed  money,  as 
IK  did." 

Wyilis  laughed  heartily  at  this. 


**HOW  raHooEin  SHI  LOOKS  IHKBX  jjncxpP'   111 

«  By  George,  Belle  !  That  was  a  corker !  But  1 
never  told  you  I  had  let  Jack  have  money." 

"  You  told  me  something  that  made  me  suspect  it 
before  you  ever  supposed  I  should  meet  him,  and  his 
actions  confirmed  the  rest." 

"  Well,  Belle,"  said  Wyllis,  after  a  momentary  pause, 
"  where  are  we  ?  '  After  what  has  occurred,'  etc.,  I  sup- 
pose you  wish  no  more  of  me." 

Her  usual  manner  had  by  this  time  returned. 
"  Don't  imagine  I  shall  let  you  off  so  easy,"  she 
answered.  "  You  are  married  to  me  and  shall  wear 
your  chains.  Husbands  were  devised  to  annoy 
women,  I  have  always  heard,  and  your  early  beginning, 
though  rougher  than  I  anticipated,  was  not  wholly  un- 
expected." 

He  sat  there  looking  at  her  handsome  face  with  a 
strange  expression.  He  had  seen  her  in  many  moods 
during  the  past  thirty  hours. 

"  Belle,"  he  broke  out,  "  you  are  a  good  girl ;  upon 
my  soul  you  are  !  I  wouldn't  injure  you  for  the  world  ; 
and  now  our  little  tiff  about  this  confounded  picture  is 
over,  I'll  make  you  a  present  of  it." 

He  tossed  it  toward  her,  but  she  sprang  away  with 
a  little  shriek. 

"  I  wouldn't  look  at  it  nor  touch  it  foi  millions  of 
dollars  !"  she  said,  stepping  back  from  the  place  on 
the  carpet  where  it  lay.  "  Do  what  you  like  with  it, 
feat  don't  bring  it  near  me." 

He  went  humorously  and  got  a  pair  of  tongs  fiom 
the  fireplace,  with  which  he  took  up  the  photograph 
as  if  it  were  something  poisonous. 

"  By  Jove,  it  seems  a  sinful  shame  to  burn  that 
i»p  !"  he  said,  turning  the  picture  around  so  as  to  get 
•we  last  look  at  it.  "  But  I  suppose  it  must  go  on  the 


119    "HOW   INNOCJCNT   SHE  LOOKS   THESE   ASLXXP P1 

altar  of  domestic  peace  and  harmony.  I  never  saw 
anything  so  beautiful !  Of  course — having  got  the 
original — but  then,  years  work  changes,  they  say. 
Belle,  may  I  not  keep  it,  just  to  look  at  myself,  and 
aever,  never  let  it  go  out  of  my  possession  ?  Why, 
there  are  paintings  in  the  Louvre,  that  have  made 
reputations,  not  half  as  pretty.  The  little,  sweet 
child  !  How  innocent  she  looks  there  asleep  !  Mayn't 
I  Belle  ?" 

She  relented  enough  to  come  and  shake  his  arm  so 
as  to  drop  the  troublesome  picture  on  the  coals,  end 
drew  a  long  breath  of  relief  as  the  flames  reduced  it 
to  ashes. 

"  I  never  felt  so  wicked  in  my  life,"  said  Claude, 
taking  one  of  the  big  chairs  and  pulling  her  down 
into  his  lap.  "  I  can  almost  smell  the  burning  flesh 
of  that  innocent  young  creature — " 

She  put  her  hand  over  his  mouth. 

4  Well,  now  we  are  friends  again,"  he  said—"  We 
are  friends,  are  we  not  ? — what's  next  >" 

"A  ride,"  she  suggested.  "A  ride  up  into  the 
eitv  and  around  the  vicinity,  where  we  can  get  som« 
fresh  air.  You  see  to  the  team,  and  while  you  are 
gone  I  will  ascertain  how  they  are  using  poor 
Helen," 

The  maid  was  very  well,  and  not  at  all  displeased 
to  have  so  Lttle  to  do.  She  ascribed  the  reason  to 
the  natura.  exigencies  of  newly  wedded  life  and  had 
no  idea  of  the  warring  elements  which  had  agitated 
her  master  and  mistress  since  she  eft  them. 

A  pair  of  fast  horses  was  soon  ready.  Claude  took 
the  reins  himself  (he  knew  the  neighborhood  well)  and 
off  they  drove  at  a  good  pace.  The  brisk  morning 
atmosphere  and  the  occurrences  of  the  last  half  hour 


emu.  «on  BU««T  xmnr*.  IIS 

had  wrought  a  great  change  in  Belle  and  she  now 
looked  the  picture  of  health. 

"  Claude,"  she  said,  as  she  leaned  against  him,  a  I 
don't  want  you  to  misunderstand  one  answer  I  gave 
you  when  we  were  disputing  there — after  you  said 
•omething  about — a — a  vestal.  I  don't  want  y»u  to 
think — " 

"  Oh,  bother  that !"  he  cried,  ungallantly,  ^ut 
kindly.  "  I  don't  care  wh&t  you've  been  !" 

"  You  have  not  kissed  me  yet." 

11  Haven't  I  ?    Well,  here  goes  !" 

The  horses  ran  nearly  a  mile  before  Claude  couM 
recover  the  reins.    It  was  a  miracle  the  riders 
not  killed. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

CORA   OOXS   BUGGY    RIDING. 

Nearly  two  years  have  passed  away.  Cora  Mad- 
ison is  now  nineteen,  little  Jessie  is  twelve,  and  their 
mother  and  they  still  live  in  Cambridge,  in  the  antique 
house  with  the  long  piazza,  the  sloping  ,awn  and  the 
high  bushes  and  big  shade  trees  along  the  street  side. 
Some  of  the  old  college  lodgers  are  there,  some  have 
finished  their  terms  and  gone  away,  and  one  or  two 
new  ones  have  come  to  take  the  vacant  rooms. 
Another  apartment  will  soon  be  tenantless,  for  Mr. 
Jack  Elton  is  about  to  sail  for  his  German  university, 
and  this  fart  casts  a  sombre  hue  over  everything. 

Mrs.  Madison  likes  Jack.  As  a  young  man  whose 
rent  has  never  been  overdue  and  who  has  even  paid  in 


114  CORA   «OX8  »TJOGT   UDDMt. 

advance  at  sundry  times,  upon  urgent  request  for 
needed  accommodation  ;  as  a  gentleman  whose  Pri- 
vate Character  is  above  suspicion  ;  who  has  taken 
great  interest  in  Jessie  and  taught  a  naturally  wayward 
child  to  obey  and  honor  him  ;  and  last,  though  by  no 
means  least,  has  been  for  over  a  year  the  careful  pre- 
ceptor of  Cora,  whose  yearning  for  higher  education 
might  otherwise  have  gone  unsatisfied.  Yes,  Jack  has 
guided  the  girl  in  new  studies,  giving  time  to  her 
which  he  needed  for  himself,  though  he  would  not 
admit  that  fact.  During  the  past  season  he  has  sacri- 
ficed a  dearly  loved  seat  in  the  'varsity  boat  in 
order  to  keep  up  with  his  lessons  and  hers,  and  has 
seen  the  college  crew  beaten  at  New  London  by  so 
short  a  distance  that  he  feels  certain  his  arm  would 
have  gained  the  victory.  How  to  get  along  without 
Jack  is  a  poser  to  Mrs.  Madison. 

Jessie  likes  Jack  :  The  idea  that  her  "  big  brother  " 
is  to  be  gone  from  her  for  three  years  is  more  than 
she  can  realize.  Who  is  she  going  to  with  all  her 
small  joys  and  sorrows  ?  Mamma  doesn't  appreciate 
them  as  Jack  does,  and  Cora  is  always  busy.  No  one 
to  watch  for  at  the  gate ;  no  one  to  walk  with  to  the 
college  yard  or  street  car ;  no  one  she  can  run  up 
behind  when  he  sits  on  the  piazza  and  blindfold  with 
her  litcle  hands  to  make  him  "guess"  who  she  is  ! 
It  makes  Jessie  very  sober  when  she  thinks  of  these 
things,  but  she  doesn't  quite  believe  it  yet.  Some- 
thing will  certainly  happen,  she  feels  sure,  to  keep 
Jack  here. 

Cora  likes  Jack  :  She  would  put  it  in  her  tkoughte 
with  a  dearer  name— the  loves  him.  Ever  since  that 
night  when  they  shot  the  big  bear  together,  up  at  the 
corner  »f  Oxford  and  Mellen  streets,  she  has  had  no 


OOBi.   OOE8   BU9GT    BIDDf*.  llf 

doubt  she  and  Jack  are  meant  for  each  other.  Very 
little  of  what  most  young  people  would  denominate 
"love  talk  "  has  passed  between  them.  Jack  does  not 
know  how  to  be  "  spooney."  Never,  strange  as  it  may 
seem,  since  that  night,  has  he  offered  her  a  kisa, 
They  have  gone  on  like  two  satisfied  friends  who  need 
none  of  these  things  to  show  each  other  how  they  feel 
She  knows  the  watchword  is  "  Wait  !"  Three  years 
more  of  study  for  him  and  then  at  least  a  year  to  get 
settled  in  practice.  That  fire  does  not  burn  the 
longest  which  has  at  its  inception  the  hottest  blaze. 
Gossipping  neighbors  find  little  to  say  of  the  young 
couple.  It  is  clearly,  to  their  minds,  not  a  love  affair 
at  all.  They  are  students — no  more. 

And  Jack  :  The  haven  which  stretches  before  him, 
and  which  he  has  so  longed  for,  begins  to  have  its 
regrets.  Three  long  and  weary  years  at  Freiburg, 
with  no  sight  of  Cora's  face  and  no  sound  of  Cora's 
voice  !  He  is  an  enthusiast  in  his  profession,  the 
year  he  has  studied  it  at  Harvard  proving  to  him  more 
than  ever  how  well  it  is  adapted  to  his  tastes.  But 
that  slender  piece  of  femininity,  with  the  chestnut 
hair  and  the  thoughtful  eyes,  that  is  adapted  to  his 
tastes,  too.  Jack  is  no  dreamer,  but  he  is  a  man  ;  and 
being  a  man  he  cannot  help  looking  wistfully  after 
ter  as  she  moves  about  the  house  and  thinking  how 
soon  he  will  look  and  see  her  not. 

Jack  knew  that  something  tangible  must  DC  said 
before  he  went  on  his  long  journey.  He  put  it  off  as 
long  as  he  could,  from  very  timorousness,  (he  was  quite 
a  coward  in  some  things — this  plowman)  but  one 
August  evening,  shortly  before  he  was  to  sail,  he  found 
himself,  as  the  sun  was  setting,  walking  with  her  along 
the  southern  slope  of  Mt.  Auburn,  in  an  unfrequented 


llf  ODHA.   OOM  BUGGY  MDDfO. 

part  of  that  beautiful  cemetery,  and  felt  that  £fe 
must  use  the  opportunity.  Finding  a  convenient  seat 
they  rested,  gazing  for  a  few  minutes  at  the  winding 
Charles  beneath  their  feet  and  marking  how  plainly 
they  could  discern  the  various  church  steeples  in  the 
city  beyond.  When  Jack  found  space  for  his  words 
they  were  direct,  as  it  was  his  nature  to  say  every- 
thing. 

"  Do  you  remember,  Cora,  the  night  we  were  walk- 
ing on  Oxford  street,  nearly  two  years  ago,  when  we 
spoke  of  Wenona  and  Maiden  Rock  ?  I  asked  you 
then,  whether,  if  you  loved  a  man,  you  would  wait  for 
him  years,  if  need  be,  and  you  said  you  would  wait 
forever." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  I  am  going  away  next  week,  to  be  gone  a  long 
time — it  seems  very  long  indeed  to  me.  When 
I  return  I  shall  have  a  profession,  and  I  hope  soon  to 
be  in  possession  of  a  good  income.  You  know — you 
have  known  for  a  long  time — that  I  love  you.  And  I 
want  you  to  tell  me  now  that  you  will  wait  for  me." 

A  tear,  which  fell  to  the  earth  as  she  looked  up,  an- 
swered his  question.  She  put  her  hand  in  his. 

"  I  don't  know  how  I  can  bear  to  have  you  gone  so 
long,"  she  said,  in  a  trembling  voice.  "It  will  seem  so 
cheerless." 

u  But  I  will  write  you  very  often,"  he  interposed, 
"and  you  will  answer  me.  That  will  help  a  good  deal ; 
and  when  w*  know  that  every  day  makes  one  less  to 
wait  that  will  be  something  to  think  of.  It  is  a  long 
time,  though,"  he  admitted,  looking  dolefirly  on  th* 
ground. 

They  sat  thete  a  little  while  in  silence. 

"  Shall  I  tell  mamma  T  she  asked. 


00*1.  «O1»  »UGGT  UDDTO.  117 


"  What  do  you  think  ?"  he  questioned. 

"  I  think  it  would  be  best  not  She  is  not  well, 
and  the  thought  that  I  had  promised  to  leave  her, 
even  at  such  an  indefinite  tims,  might  wony  rser.  Oh, 
Jack,  I  am  afraid  you  will  not  find  mamma  here  when 
you  return  !" 

He  thought  as  she  did,  with  his  practiced  eye,  but 
he  felt  it  his  duty  to  say  her  mother  was  still  young. 

"Yes,  I  know  it;  she  is  not  old,  but  she  grows 
weaker  every  day.  Even  the  little  cares  of  the  house 
are  too  much  for  her,  and  she  won't  let  me  take  all  the 
load,  as  I  am  so  anxious  to  do.  I  wish  I  could  take 
her  away  somewhere,  where  she  would  have  nothing 
to  think  of  but  getting  well,  but  it's  no  use  talking  of 
that." 

Elton  felt,  as  he  had  been  often  called  upon  to 
feel,  the  pang  that  poverty  brings  to  those  whose 
natures  are  generous  and  whose  purses  are  light  If 
he  could  have  made  any  sacrifice  that  would  have 
given  Cora  her  wish,  how  gladly  he  would  have  made 
it' 

"  Camoridge  is  not  a  bad  place  for  invalids,  by  any 
means,"  he  said,  comfortingly,  "and  with  your 
thoughtful  care  we  may  hope  for  the  best  When  I 
reach  home  again  and  get  that  wonderful  practice  that 
I  have  dreamed  of  for  so  long,  we  will  take  your 
mother  and  Jessie  under  our  protecting  wings  and 
relieve  them  of  all  further  anxiety.  Do  you  know," 
he  added,  as  the  recollection  came  back  to  him,  "  Jessie 
asked  me  ever  so  long  ago  if  I  were  going  to  marry 
you.  What  a  darling  little  thing  she  is  !" 

"  Did  she  7  said  the  girl,  with  brightening  eyes. 
"It's  just  like  her.  She  'B  indeed  a  darling,  but  I 
quite  despair  of  keeping  her  in  order  after  yor  go, 


118  00*1    OOM   BUQOT   KTDIHO. 

You  have  HO  idea  how  often  mamma  and  I  have  per- 
suaded her  to  do  or  not  to  do  things,  by  threatening 
to  tell  you.  All  we  could  say  to  her  would  amount  to 
nothing  compared  with  one  sober  look  onyow  face,*' 

Elton  looked  surprised  and  not  displeased. 

"  I  had  no  idea  I  was  being  used  as  a '  booguey,' "  he 
smiled,  "  but,  if  it  proves  beneficial,  continue  it.  A 
threat  to  write  to  me  and  tell  of  her  peccadilloes  ought 
to  be  effective,  I  should  think.  THe  idea  of  a  big  Ger- 
man student  coming  across  the  ocean  to  scold  her 
would  frighten  almost  any  child.  Seriously,  I  have  a 
very  warm  place  in  my  heart  for  Miss  Jessie,  and  I 
think  if  she  will  keep  up  a  personal  correspondence 
with  me,  I  can  guide  her  quite  as  well  as  if  I  were 
here." 

As  the  sun  had  disappeared,  they  began  to  walk 
slowly  homeward,  discussing  on  their  way  many  little 
things  which  can  safely  be  omitted  without  destroying 
the  continuity  of  this  narrative. 

"  Are  you  sure,"  she  asked  him  once,  "  that  three 
years  will  not  suffice  to  make  you  forget  that  you  have 
cared  so  much  for  me  ?  There  will  be  young  ladies  in 
Germany  as  well  as  here,  and  perhaps  one  of  them  may 
captivate  your  heart." 

She  said  it  in  a  bantering  way,  but  Elton  could  not 
treat  it  otherwise  than  seriously. 

"  There  is  and  will  be  but  one  woman  in  the  world 
for  me,  Cora." 

At  that  she  grew  serious  and  said  she  was  sure  of 
it ;  and  so  talking  they  reached  home. 

For  several  days  after  Jack  sailed  there  was  a 
settled  gloom  in  the  Madison  household.  Ora  busied 
herself  with  the  housework  more  than  ever,  as  her 


COMA.  eoM  Btrectr  smnro.  lit 

mother  grew  yet  feebler,  and  another  servant  was  omt 
•f  the  question.  The  work  was  just  then  a  godsend 
tc  her,  however,  as  it  helped  to  pass  away  the  weary 
hours  which  were  not  to  be  brightened  by  Jack's  step 
or  Jack's  voice.  Jessie's  eyes  were  red  most  of  the 
time  for,  young  as  she  was,  she  took  her  loss  much  to 
heart.  The  first  thing  to  break  the  monotony  was  a 
buggy,  which  stopped  at  the  gate,  and  a  loud  ring 
at  the  door  bell  from  its  late  occupant.  Cora,  on 
learning  that  she  was  inquired  for,  walked  into  the 
parlor  to  find  there  no  less  a  person  than  Mr.  Claude 
Wyllis. 

"  Do  you  remember  me  ?"  he  smiled. 

"  Why,  yes,"  she  said.     "  It  is  Mr.—" 

"  Wyllis  ;  Belle's  husband  ;  of  course  !  Two  year* 
bince  you've  seen  me,  isn't  it  ?  And  you — why,  you've 
grown  wonderfully  !  You  were  a  child,  now  you  are 
a  woman.  Belle  will  be  delighted  to  see  you.  We 
are  at  the  Parker  House.  I  ran  over  in  my  buggy  to 
take  you  there." 

Cora  was  so  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  seeing 
Belle  again  that  she  never  thought  to  wonder  why 
that  lady  had  no*  come  to  Cambridge  instead  of  send- 
ing for  hei  in  this  manner.  She  instantly  replied 
\hat  she  would  be  delignted  to  go,  and  went  to 
reform  Mrs.  Madison.  In  twenty  minutes  Cora  was 
at  the  gate. 

"  You  told  me  the  last  time  we  met  never  again  to 
ride  with  a  gentleman,"  she  said,  gaily,  hesitating  at 
the  step. 

"Oh,  no,"  he  corrected,  "I  never  saii  anything 
as  ridiculous  as  that  I  said  '  with  a  stranger.'  It  is 
quite  different  now.  You  have  known  me  for  TWO 
whole  years." 


DM  OOBA   OOflS   BUGGY   BIDIHCk 

This  novel  idea  amused  Cora  very  much.  It  was 
the  first  happv  moment  she  had  known  for  a  week 
and  her  spirits  rose  as  she  drove  down  the  street  with 
her  new  escort.  To  her  hundred  questions  he  told 
her  he  and  Belle  had  been  in  Europe  most  of  the  time 
since  their  marriage.  He  spoke  of  the  various  placet 
which  they  had  visited  and  said  they  had  only 
returned  to  America  within  the  past  fortnight. 

"  And  Elton  !"  he  added.  "  Jack,  poor  old  fellow^ 
has  gone  right  over  where  we  came  from.  We  just 
missed  him,  not  thinking  he  was  going  so  early.  I 
would  have  given  anything  to  see  Jack." 

"  I  did  not  know  you  were  so  intimate  with  him," 
she  said,  surprised. 

"Intimate!"  he  echoed.  "Well,  I  guess  if  you 
knew  you  would  call  it  '  intimate  !'  There  is  no  other 
fellow  on  this  round  planet  that  I  like  as  well  as  I  do 
Jack  Elton." 

"Then  you  have  corresponded  with  him  all  the 
time  ?"  she  said,  inquiringly.  "  I  wish  I  had  known  it, 
for  I  could  have  got  Belle's  address.  There  were  sev- 
eral things  I  wanted  to  write  to  her." 

He  looked  at  her  roguishly. 

"  You  wanted  to  tel!  her  of  the  engagement,  eh  ? 
But  she  knew  it,  scmehow — Belle  knows  more  things 
than  any  one  else,  I  really  believe.  Well,  Jack  is  wor- 
thy of  you,  little  girl.  He  will  make  you  a  good  hus- 
band. Ah  !  now  you  are  blushing  !" 

And  indeed  she  was,  like  a  peony. 

"  You  are  trying  to  make  me  say  things  I  have  not 
•aid,"  she  stammered.  "  But,  where  are  we  going  t 
This  is  not  the  way  to  the  Parker  House." 

For  the  first  time  she  noticed  that  Wyllis  was  driv- 
ing; toward  Longwood. 


MBA   CKflM   BTOOT   XOXTO.  131 

"  I  know  it  is  not  the  most  direct  way,"  he  admit 
ted,  "  but  I  want  to  keep  my  horse  off  the  pavement 
all  I  can,  and  this  is  not  much  farther.  Speaking  of 
Jack,  he  has  three  whole  years  before  him  in  Ger- 
many. By  George,  Com  — I  mean  Miss  Madison— 
that's  a  long  time  to  wait  for  a  lover  !" 

The  girl  began  to  think  her  escort  quite  too  free  in 
his  manner,  but  she  did  not  know  how  to  stop  him 
without  appearing  silly.  So  she  said  : 

"  Three  years  being  necessar  for  the  completion 
of  his  medical  studies,  three  years  he  must  remain. 
WTiat  part  of  Europe  do  you  think  the  pleasantest  ?" 

Wyllis  totally  ignored  the  question.  He  was  look- 
ing admiringly  at  the  face  of  his  companion. 

"  If  I  were  Jack  Elton,"  he  said,  "and  there  was  a 
girl  like  you  waiting  here  for  me,  I  would  see  all  theit 
old  doctor-books  in  the  bottom  of  the  sea  before  I 
would  stay  there  three  years.  Why,  Cora — you  must 
let  me  call  you  Cora,  I  never  hear  of  you  by  any 
other  name — I  would  rather  stay  here  and  sip  the 
honey  from  those  lips  of  yours  than  to  have  all  the 
knowledge  those  blasted  Dutchmen  have  got  in  all 
their  universities  !" 

The  boldness  of  this  language  angered  the  maiden 
She  felt  that  the  limit  had  passed  when  silence  was  a 
duty. 

"Mr.  Wyllis,"  she  said,  coldly,  "you  have  no  right 
to  use  such  language  to  me  !  I  resent  it  utterly  !  If 
it  is  continued  I  shall  refuse  to  ride  with  you.  If  yc  u 
intend  to  take  me  to  your  wife,  you  must  take  the  near- 
est direction  to  School  street,  and  cease  using  words 
which  are  unfit  for  me  to  hear !" 

He  gave  a  long  whistle,  indicative  of  great  surprise 
and  dismay. 


129  COTU  GOM  vcocnr  xznxrc. 

"  Why,  Co— Miss  Madison — you  are  not  angry  witb 
me  !  Heavens  !  what  have  I  said  ?  Well,  it  is  alwayi 
the  way  !  I  am  the  most  innocent  man  in  the  world, 
and  yet  I  am  forever  saying  the  wrong  thing.  Off  to 
Parker's  then  it  is,  by  the  air  line,  if  it  lames  the  hoi -^4 
so  he  never  goes  again." 

So  saying  he  turned  into  Beacon  street  It  wa* 
near  the  Brookline  end,  and  long  before  the  receni 
improvements  created  there  one  of  the  finest  avenues 
on  this  continent.  There  were  hardly  any  residences 
near  where  they  were  and  he  was  driving  very  leis- 
urely. Seeing  that  Cora  made  no  reply,  he  pro- 
ceeded : 

"  You  are  not  going  to  refuse  to  speak  all  the  way 
to  Boston  on  account  of  my  intended  compliment, 
are  you  ?" 

She  answered  with  dignity  : 

"  I  do  not  consider  it  a  compliment  and  have  no 
wish  to  hear  anything  more  of  the  kind.  If  that  ends 
the  matter  with  you,  rt  certainly  does  with  me." 

"  Then,"  he  said,  suddenly  stopping  his  horse  in 
the  middle  of  the  road,  "  let's  kiss  and  make  up  !" 

His  action  was  so  unexpected  that  Cora  found  his 
arms  around  her  and  his  lips  against  hers  before  she 
could  make  the  least  response.  The  next  instant  all 
her  outraged  maidenhood  was  aroused  and,  unmind- 
ful of  everything  but  her  injury,  she  struck  him  full 
in  the  face  with  her  clenched  fist.  It  was  a  small  fist 
but  there  was  a  will  behind  it,  and  it  drew  blood  from 
his  mouth,  which  discolored  his  face  and  her  hands. 
She  did  not  see  this  at  first  and,  with  an  instinctive 
movement  of  self -protection,  she  caught  the  buggy 
whip  out  of  its  socket  and  struck  him  with  that,  too. 
To  some  way  she  managed  to  reach  rite  ground  and 


MB.   JOKKSCS,    THE   LAWTOU  183 

was  still  striking  at  him  in  a  blind  rage  witfc  the  new 
weapon,  when  the  horse,  becoming  frightened  at  the 
blows,  ran  off  down  the  road  with  Wyllis  and  left  her 
there. 

As  soon  as  she  realized  what  had  happened  Cora 
ran  to  a  house  a  short  distance  back  ;  and,  when  the 
good  lady  admitted  her,  fell  in  a  dead  faint  in  the 
front  hall. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

MR.  JOHNSON,  THE  LAWYER. 

It  will  always  be  a  source  of  astonishment  to  the 
writer  of  these  lines  that  a  woman  can  go  through  the 
most  terrible  excitement  with  a  nerve  truly  wonderful, 
and  yet  fall  into  unconsciousness  the  moment  the 
danger  is  past.  That  they  do  this  all  careful  observers 
will  bear  witness.  Cora's  case  can  be  paralleled  in 
this  feature  every  day. 

The  house  into  which  she  fled  was  the  home  of 
excellent  people,  who  did  all  in  their  power  to  restore 
the  girl,  first  to  consciousness  and  them  to  tranquillity  \ 
for  she  regained  her  senses  only  to  burst  into  hysteri- 
cal weeping,  which  continued  for  upward  of  an  hour, 
and  would  give  no  explanation  of  the  cause  of  her  dis- 
tress. As  the  day  wore  on  a  girl  employed  in  the  house 
returned  from  an  errand  with  the  information  that  a 
gentleman's  horse  had  run  away  with  him ;  that  the 
buggy  in  which  he  rode  had  been  overturned  a  little 
way  down  the  street,  and  that  the  animal  had  been 
killed. 


ISA  ML    JOHimOV,   THB  ULWTXK. 

Cora  was  now  filled  with  a  new  alarm.  Perhaps 
Mr.  Wyllis  had  been  seriously  injured  !  She  felt  she 
ought  to  go  to  Boston  and  see  about  it  Bad  as  he 
was,  he  was  Belle's  husband — good,  kind  Belle  Vaug- 
han,  to  whom  she  owed  so  much.  So  she  quieted  her 
nerves  as  much  as  possible,  made  herself  look  present- 
able,  thanked  the  people  of  the  house  for  their  kind- 
ness and  set  off  for  the  city,  walking  to  the  nearest 
horse  cars. 

At  the  Parker  House  she  sent  up  her  name  to  Belle, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  that  lady  was  hi  the  parlor  to 
meet  her,  with  her  arms  around  her  neck.  It  was  after 
this  effusive  greeting  that  Belle  noticed  for  the  first 
time  her  friend's  swollen  eyes  and  excited  manner. 

"  Why,  Cora,"  she  cried,  "  what  is  the  matter  ?  Has 
anything  happened  ?  I  was  so  overjoyed  to  see  you 
that  I  did  not  notice  at  first." 

Cora  held  back  the  tears  with  difficulty,  and  said  in 
a  shaking  voice  :  "  Oh,  Belle,  I  am  so  sor*y  !  Is  he — 
is  Mr.  Wyllis  very  badly  hurt  ?  I  don't  think  I  knew 
what  I  was  doing.  He  alarmed  me  so  much,  and  I 
never  had  a  thing  happen  like  that  before." 

A  quick  flash  of  intelligence  passed  over  Mrs. 
Wyllis'  features.  It  was  her  first  intimation  that  her 
husband's  accident  had  anything  to  do  with  Cora. 
He  had  been  brought  home  in  a  carriage,  somewhat 
bruised  about  the  face  and  with  a  sprained  ankle,  but 
beyond  stating  that  his  horse  took  fright,  had  given 
no  explanation.  As  hir  hurts  were  not  severe,  no  sus- 
picion had  arisen  that  there  was  anything  he  had  not 
cared  to  tell. 

Belle  was  a  diplomat,  not  the  less  so  after  two  rears 
of  wedded  life,  and  she  quickly  decided  net  to  let  Cora 


MB.   JOHVSOV,  THX  LAWTKB.  125 

kaow  that  she  had  brought  the  first  news.  She  there- 
fore responded  : 

"  Oh,  no,  dear  ;  it's  nothing  serious.  He  is  a  little 
scratched  up  and  may  walk  lame  for  a  week  or  two, 
but  that's  all.  Sit  do'vn  here  on  the  sofa  and  tell  Me 
how  it  happened.  Claude  has  gone  to  his  room,  •vr&fre 
the  doctor  advises  him  to  stay  for  at  least  a  day  or  two, 
and  there  hasn't  been  time  to  ask  him." 

Cora  reddened  at  the  question. 

"  I  don't  know  how  to  answer  you,  Belle.  He  had 
better  tell  you,  if  he  will.  But  I  know  I  struck  him 
with  the  whip,  even  after  I  left  the  buggy,  and  it  must 
have  scared  the  horse."  She  spoke  haltingly  and  kept 
her  eyes  on  the  carpet.  "  I  was  so  anxious  to  see  you 
that  when  he  came  for  me  I  just  ran  to  get  ready,  and 
when  he  began  talking  so,  and  at  last  when  he — well, 
I  couldn't  help  it,  that's  all  there  is  to  it  But  I  am 
sorry  and  I  wanted  to  see  you  right  away  and  tell  you. 
And  you  are  so  good  not  to  scold  me  !" 

She  uttered  a  sob  and  wiped  away  a  tear  with  her 
handkerchief. 

Belle  saw  it  all  now,  and  while  it  annoyed,  it  did  not 
surprise  her. 

"I  don't  blame  you  in  the  least,  you  poor  darling  ! ! 
she  said.  "  He  is  the  one  to  be  scolded.  Claude  is 
the  moit  thoughtless  man,  I  suppose,  that  ever  lived. 
His  impulses  govern  him  in  everything.  Had  I 
known  he  would  ask  you  to  ride  over  here  (it  is  not  a 
nice  thing  to  say  about  one's  husband,  is  it  ?)  I  would 
have  advised  you  to  decline  and  take  some  other  con- 
veyance." 

"Why,  Belle,"  interrupted  Cora,  with  a  sttrt,  "be 
told  me  you  sent  him  !" 

Belle  bit  her  lips  at  the  faux  fas. 


196  KB.    JOHHSOK,   THE   TJLWTOB. 

"I  did  not  tell  him  to  go  after  you  altne !  K* 
would  have  known  me  better !  He  is  not  responsible 
when  there  is  a  pretty  girl  in  the  question — no,  he 
really  is  not !  The  sight  of  a  pair  of  bright  eyes 
makes  him  non-compos,  a  parasol  renders  him  insane, 
and  he  goes  raving  mad  at  the  sight  of  a  stocking— 
unless  it  happens  to  be  mine.  I  have  lived  with  him 
two  years  and  I  ought  to  know  !" 

Cora's  eyes  opened  very  wide. 

"  But,  Belle,  it  is  dreadful  !  I  don't  see  how  you 
can  laugh  at  it.  Why,  I  would  not  for  all  Boston  have 
him  kiss  me  like  that  again  !" 

Belle  could  not  repress  a  laugh. 

"You  are  such  an  innocent  little  goose,"  she  said, 
"  that  I  hardly  know  what  to  say  to  you.  When  you 
know  men  as  well  as  I  do— but  there  !  I  am  not 
going  to  fill  you  with  pessimistic  notions.  If  Claude 
has  scared  you,  I  will  make  him  apologize.  There  are 
some  things  he  ought  to  know.  Come  up  stairs. 
He  is  only  on  the  sofa.  You  shall  hear  me  talk  to 
him  !" 

But  Cora  held  back. 

14 1  don't  think  I'd  like  to  go,  Belle.  He  will  scold 
me  and  I  am  very  nervous." 

"  Come  on  !"  said  Belle,  reassuringly.  "  Claude 
would  feel  badly  if  he  knew  you  had  been  here  an# 
gone  without  seeing  him.  He  is  not  the  worst  man 
!n  the  world  ;  though, — to  repeat  the  old  witticism — 
he  is  the  worst  I  ever  saw.  Come  along !  I  want  him 
to  see  you." 

She  drew  the  shrinking  girl  towards  the  elevator 
and  in  another  minute  they  entered  the  apartments  ol 
the  Wyllises.  Claude  lay  propped  up  by  pillows  ca 
&  wide  sofa  at  one  side  of  the  room,  reading  a  new»- 


KB.    JOHHiOK,   THE   LAWTXX.  IS? 

paper  Various  pieces  of  court  plaster  adorned  his 
countenance.  One  of  his  legs  was  bandaged  at  the 
ankle,  and  the  smell  of  arnica  and  other  aromatic 
drugs  feebly  scented  the  room.  He  did  not  look  up 
&t  first,  supposing  his  wife  was  alone,  but  when  he  did 
fee  gave  a  great  start. 

"  The  devil !"  he  ejaculated. 

"  No,"  corrected  his  wife,  '•  Miss  Cora  Madison,  who 
»as  been  giving  me  the  particulars  of  the  very  polite 
ray  you  used  her,  while  professing  to  act  as  my 
nessenger.  What  have  you  to  say — you  naughty,  bad 
>oy  !" 

Cora  could  not  help  detecting  in  her  friend's  tone 
•he  humorous  way  in  which  she  evidently  regarded 
the  transaction,  and  a  rebellious  feeling  arose  in  her 
heart  that  this  view  should  be  taken  of  it.  But,  after 
all,  she  reasoned,  the  wife  might  know  best  how  to 
govern  her  husband,  who  was  evidently  an  extraordi- 
nary individual ;  and,  beside,  the  hospital-like  appear- 
ance of  the  room  acted  powerfully  on  the  girl's  sym- 
pathetic nature. 

"  Does  Miss  Madison  come  10  scold  me  or  to  con- 
dole with  me?"  was  Claude's  reply.  "If  I  might 
ma).e  a  suggestion,  I  should  say  the  penalty  I  am  suf- 
fer ag  is  at  least  as  great  as  my  offense." 

Cora  made  haste  to  answer. 

u  I  only  came  to  see  how  much  you  were  injured  I 
Vnard  about  the  horse — poor  beast,  he  suffered  the 
r  iost  and  did  nothing  to  deserve  it  ! — and  1  feared 
j,ou  might  be  badly  hurt.  I  am  glad  it  is  no  worse, 
?mt  I  am  very  sorry  it  is  as  bad  as  it  is  !" 

Ker  eyes  filled  with  tears  and  her  manner  proved 
earnestly  she  felt  all  she  said.  Claude  looked  at 

and  smUed. 


188  MB.  jommov,  THB  IU.WYB*. 

*  That  was  very  handsomely  said,  Miss  Cora,  and 
now  I  know  exactly  what  to  say  to  you.  I  am  sorry 
for  the  fright  I  gave  you.  I  never  supposed  it  would 
scare  you  so  much,  of  course,  but  I  am  quite  satisfied, 
now  it  is  over  and  I  am  lying  here  on  this  sofa,  that  I 
was  wrong.  So,  if  you  are  sorry  for  killing  my  horw 
and  smashing  my  buggy  and  giving  me  a  face  full  of 
bruises  and  a  sprained  ankle — as  I  understand  you  to 
sav  you  are — why,  I  am  sorry  for  kissing  you  ;  *hat  «s, 
I  am  sorry  you  didn't  like  it.  Say,  Belle,  is  my  apol- 
ogy ample  ?" 

His  wife  playfully  shook  her  fist  at  him. 

"  When  will  you  reform  ?"  she  asked.  "  Must  my 
friends  always  be  in  danger  that  you  will  embrace 
them  against  their  will  ?  Do  you  intend  to  go  on  for- 
ever alienating  my  dearest  companions  with  your 
wicked  acts  ?  Why,  Cora,"  she  added,  turning  to  the 
girl,  "  I  cannot  keep  a  maid,  unless  she  is  a  picture  of 
agLness.  How  many  have  left  me  on  your  account, 
Cla  ade  ?  How  many,  I  say  r° 

She  waited  for  him  to  state  the  number,  which  he 
declined  to  do. 

"  Forty,  I  really  believe  !"  she  said.  "  Just  as  I 
began  to  like  them,  in  they  would  come  in  a  rage  and 
give  their  notice.  '  What's  the  matter  ?'  '  The  master 
insulted  me.'  Yes  !  All  over  Europe  it  was  the 
same.  England,  Ireland,  Scotland,  Wales,  it  made  no 
difference.  France — that  was  the  worst  of  all.  Italy, 
Germany,  Sweden,  Denmark,  why,  I  did  nothing  but 
search  for  new  maids  !  And  all,"  here  she  shook  her 
fist  again  with  mock  anger  at  her  husband,  "  all  oa 
account  of  that  bad  man  !" 

Claude  gave  a  gesture  of  impatience. 

"  Vou  believed  everything  they  told  you." 


MB.  JOMBBOV,  rmm  LAWYXE.  129 

"I  did!"  she  said,  solemnly.  "Because,  I  knew 
you." 

Then  they  both  laughed,  which  Cora  though  very 
odd  indeed. 

"  You  may  make  fun  of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Wyllis,  "  all 
you  like,  but  it  is  true.  And  now  I  am  going  to  pun- 
ish you  by  going  home  to  Cambridge  with  Cora  and 
staying  all  night.  You  have  made  her  nervous  and 
somebody  must  do  the  quieting." 

Cora  looked  delighted. 

"  Can  you  go  ?"  she  cried.  "  Can  he  spare  you, 
with  his  lameness  ?" 

"He  must  spare  me,"  said  Mrs.  Wyllis.  "If  he 
wants  anything  the  annunciator  is  handy  and  this 
house  swarms  with  waiters.  Do  you  hear,  you  wicked 
fellow  ?  (to  Claude)  I  am  going  home  with  Cora." 

Saying  no  more,  she  proceeded  to  the  inner  room, 
where  she  was  soon  supposed  to  be  undergoing  the 
process  of  changing  her  attire.  Claude  took  up  the 
newspaper  again,  with  an  apology  for  so  doing,  and 
was  soon  lost  In  its  contents  ;  when,  suddenly,  a  knock 
was  heard. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  have  to  ask  you,  Cora,"  he  said, 
"  but  I  cannot  walk  very  well  and  Belle  is  probably 
not  suitably — " 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  go,"  she  answered. 

She  found  at  the  door  a  gentleman  perhaps  thirty- 
eight  or  forty  years  of  age,  who  had  no  sooner 
announced  himself  as  "  Mr.  Johnson,"  than  Claude's 
voice  rang  out,  bidding  him  to  enter  without  cere- 
Bony. 

"  Mr.  Johnson,"  he  said,  as  that  gentleman  entered 
the  room,  "let  me  introduce  Miss  Madison,  a  very  par- 
ticular friend  of  my  wife.  Miss  Madison— M-.  johu  • 


180  MB.    JOH3T80H,   THB   IU. 

son."  The  usual  bows  were  exchanged  and  Cora  re- 
sumed  her  stfat,  while  the  new-comer  walked  over  t« 
the  sofa  where  Claude  lay. 

"  What's  the  matter — been  getting  hurt  f  he  asked, 
as  he  saw  the  bandages  and  co  art-plaster. 

"  Yes,"  said  Claude,  "  a  little  ;  horse  ran  away ;  it's 
nothing.  I'll  see  you  in  a  minute.  The  ladies  are  go- 
ing out." 

Mr.  Johnson  glanced  in  an  interested  way  at  Cora 
and  said  :  "  Do  you  reside  in  Boston,  Miss  Madison  ?" 

"  No,  sir  ;  in  Cambridge." 

"  Mr.  Johnson  is  my  solicitor,"  explained  Claude, 
"  His  home  is  at  New  York,  but  his  business  is — well 
everywhere.  Isn't  that  about  it,  Johnson  ?" 

"  Hardly,"  replied  the  legal  gentleman.  "  Still,  it's 
pretty  well  scattered — pretty  well  scattered." 

He  seemed  quite  contented  with  his  business, 
himself  and  everybody  else,  Cora  thought.  An  air  ol 
prosperity  pervaded  him. 

"  If  you  have  as  good  luck  managing  everybody's 
property  as  you  do  mine,"  said  Claude,  pleasantly, 
"  your  clientage  ought  to  be  limitless.  It's — let's  see 
— ten  years  since  you  took  charge  of  my  affairs.  I've 
spent  money  like  water,  had  everything  I  wanted  and 
some  things  I  didn't  (  here  he  telegraphed  to  Cora  an 
allusion  to  the  bandages),  and  I've  got  considerable 
more  than  when  I  began." 

"  Con-siderable  more,"  echoed  the  lawyer.  M  Con- 
sid-erable  more !"  Then  he  fell  to  looking  at  Cora 
again. 

Mrs.  Wyllis  soon  came  out  with  her  things  on,  and, 
after  a  few  informal  words  with  her  husband's  visitor, 
she  took  her  leave  with  Cora. 

"  That  is  one  of  the  most  successful  of  the  youngc: 


New  York  lawyers,"  she  said,  in  allusion  to  Mr.  John- 
son, when  they  were  out  of  hearing.  "  He  belongs  to 
aa  old  New  York  family  that  used  to  be  very  rich — 
his  great-grandfather  led  them  all,  I've  heard — but 
this  man's  father  lost  a  good  deal  of  it.  His  son 
determined  to  retrieve  the  family  fortunes  and  he  is 
doing  it  fast.  He  is  not  married,  but  I've  heard  it 
intimated  that  he  is  enamored  of  a  Miss  Van  Rensel- 
laer,  whose  fortune  is  phenomenal  and  who,  it  is  said, 
looks  favorably  on  his  suit.  She  will  be  a  happy  girl 
who  gets  him.  He  is  simply  perfection  in  point  of 
Private  Character,  as  your  mother  would  say,  and  he 
will  carry  her  to  the  top  of  the  social  ladder." 

They  entered  one  of  the  carriages  on  School  street 
and  set  out  for  Cambridge.  As  they  climbed  Beacon 
Hill,  Cora  said  : 

"  Do  you  know,  Belle,  I  hate  to  hear  the  word 
'  money  '  used  in  connection  with  marriage.  It  seems 
as  if  it  lowered  the  most  sacred  of  human  ties." 

Belle  eyed  the  girl  with  a  strange  but  kind  expres- 
sion. 

"Never  despise  money,"  she  said,  "in  whatever 
connection  it  is  used.  As  this  world  is  constituted,  it 
becomes  a  most  important  factor  in  the  question  of 
happiness.  I  don't  say  it  always  brings  it,  but  it  may 
avert  great  trouble.  I  wonder  what  /  should  ever  have 
done  without  it,"  she  added,  reflectively. 
,  "  By  the  way,"  she  said,  after  a  slight  pause,  "  what 
has  become  of  our  young  friend,  the  student  ?" 

" Mr.  Elton?" 

M  Yes.  I  have  often  wondered  how  my  prophesy 
about  him  and  you  was  turning  out." 

"We  are  engaged — at  least,  I  suppose  so,'  said 
Cora,  blushing.  "  He  asked  me  to  wait  for  him  till  his 


three  years'  study  in  Germany  is  ended.     Please 
tell  mamma.     Nobody  knows  it  but  you. ' 

Mrs.  Wyllis  promised. 

"Your  secret  is  safe  with  me,"  she  said.  "I'm 
f  lad  if  it  makes  you  happy.  He  seemed  a  very  good 
foung  man.  If  he  only  had  a  fortune  he  would  be 
quite  my  beau  ideal." 

Cora  smiled  at  the  "  if." 

"  I  don't  think  Jack  would  know  what  to  de  with 
a  fortune,"  she  said. 

"  Trust  me,  he  would,"  said  her  friend  "  The  first 
thing  he  would  do  would  be  to  marry  the  little  girl  he 
loves  and  take  her  to  share  those  dull  hours  of  student 
life  which  he  must  now  pass  away  from  her.  That  is 
— I've  no  doubt  they're  dull  to  your  Jick  ;  but  I've 
been  at  Freiburg  and  Bonn  and  seen  quite  another 
vein  in  those  student  chaps.  I've  seen  them  drinking 
great  glasses  of  weiss  beer  and  lager,  with  one  arm 
around  the  neck  of  some  pretty  blonde  with  long 
braids — " 

Cora  threw  up  her  hands  with  a  gesture  of  disap- 
proval, 

"  Oh,  don't  give  me  a  portrait  like  that  to  think 
of  whenever  I  try  to  imagine  Jack !"  she  cried,  half 
laughing. 

MI  never  meant  to  do  that,  I  am  sure,"  protested 
Belle.  "  I  can  only  think  of  Mr.  Elton  as  a  tall,  sedate, 
(she  drawled  her  words)  sad-eyed  youth,  sitting  apart 
from  the  roysterers  and  gazing  in  a  westerly  direction 
toward  where  the  love  of  his  heart  resides.  And  yet," 
she  added,  seriously,  "  as  true  as  I  live,  Cora,  I  have 
no  confidence  in  these  absent  lovers.  They  usually 
find  consolations,  wherever  they  are,  and  there  is  no 
place  where  there  are  more  »f  them  than  in  a  German 


A  far*  wxmu  A*  •wjucpwerr.  139 

tMiversity  town.  Don't  let  me  discourage  your  bright 
dreams,  child.  Indulge  them  all  you  can,  aad  if  your 
theory  is  right  I  shall  be  all  the  more  pleased." 

Cora  did  not  like  to  hear  these  things,  but  she  did 
not  know  how  tc  reply.  Her  friend  seemed  so  much 
elder  and  wiser,  and  then,  had  she  not  traveled  ?  They 
soon  reached  her  mother's,  where  Mrs.  Madison  and 
Jessie  joined  in  welcoming  Mrs.  Wyllis  and  making 
her  stay  as  enjoyable  as  possible. 

The  next  day  Cora,  in  a  letter  to  Jack,  told  about 
Belle's  visit  to  her  (omitting  the  causes  which  led  up 
to  it)  and  how  glad  she  was  to  have  her  so  near,  where 
she  could  go  about  with  her  frequently.  And  Jack, 
afar  in  his  Freiburg  loneliness,  ground  his  teeth  in 
impotent  despair  at  his  distance  in  miles  and  days 
from  his  heart's  idol.  Then  he  tried  to  set  about  the 
hard  task  of  warning  her  against  Belle's  too  close 
companionship,  all  the  harder  because  he  could  not 
give  the  real  reason  which  made  him  dread  it. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A    nw    WKKKS   AT   SWAMPSCOTT. 

"Am  I  not  looking  terribly  r"  were  Mis.  Madisoa'* 
first  words  to  her  visitor.  "I  don't  believe,  Belle,  I 
shall  ever  be  well  again  !" 

"  Oh,  you  mustn't  say  that  !"  was  the  reply 
44  Courage  is  the  best  of  all  medicines.  We  will  have 
you  out  in  the  air  more.  I  go  to  ride  a  grez-t  deal  and 
shall  love  to  takf  you.  Then,  you  must  come  down 


184  A  raw  mood  AT 

to  the  shore  somewhere  and  spend  a  few  weeks  with 
me.  You  can't  imagine  the  improvement  it  will  make 
in  your  looks." 

The  widow  thanked  her  guest  for  the  kind  offer, 
bat  said  seashore  places  were  very  expensive  and  she 
couldn't  think  of  accepting  it. 

"  Expensive  !"  echoed  Belle.  "What  does  'expen- 
sive '  matter  to  me,  with  a  husband  just  rolling  in 
wealth  ?  Claude  never  questions  my  expenses,  what- 
ever else  he  may  do,  (here  she  looked  at  Cora)  and  I 
am  sure  the  little  extra  you  would  eat  would  never 
make  us  suffer.  I  am  going  to  Swampscott  next  week 
and  you  are  going  with  me." 

Mrs.  Madison  was  relenting  already.  The  prospect 
evidently  pleased  her. 

"  But  Cora — "  she  said. 

"  Cora  ?  Why,  Cora  is  going,  too  ;  and  Jessie,  of 
course.  You  know  there  is  nothing  at  all  to  keep  you 
here  in  August.  I  don't  believe  one  of  your  lodgers  is 
in  town,  or  will  be  till  the  term  begins,  and  if  there  is 
one,  get  a  woman  to  run  in  and  make  his  bed  and  he 
will  be  all  right.  Jessie,  darling,  wouldn't  you  like  to 
go  down  to  the  seashore  and  sit  on  a  big  piazza  and 
watch  the  ships  ?" 

The  child  looked  up  with  sudden  interest. 

"  What  ships  ?"  she  asked.  "  Do  any  of  them  go  to 
Germany  ?" 

Belle  nodded  wisely  : 

"  Straight  to  Bremen,  I  have  no  doubt^  where  you 
could  get  a  train  right  up  to  the  town  where  your  big 
brother  is.  You  can  write  him  that  you  saw  the  ships 
•ailing  away  over  toward  the  northeast,  and — good 
Heaven  !  The  child  is  crying  !" 

It  was  true.     The  thought  of  Jack  had  been  a  hard 


AT  iW I II I  HUM.  13£ 

•He  for  Jessie  ever  since  his  departure,  and  the  tear*  now 
flowed  in  spite  of  all  her  efforts  to  repress  them.  At 
Belle's  exclamation  she  ran  from  the  room  to  avoid 
further  comment. 

"She  thought  so  much  of  Mr.  Elton,"  explained 
her  mother.  "  He  was  here  several  years,  you  know, 
and  he  used  to  take  a  great  interest  in  her.  I  never 
thought  ihe  would  take  it  so  to  heart,  thougn,  when 
he  went  away.  Why,  she  didn't  seem  to  care  at  all 
till  he  was  out  of  sight.  He  talked  to  her  a  great  deal 
before  he  went.  On  the  last  morning  they  wer« 
together  an  hour  and  still  she  gave  no  sign.  After  his 
departure  I  found  her  in  her  bedroom  sobbing  fear- 
fully. She  said  she  didn't  want  to  make  him  feel  bad- 
ly and  so  had  kept  her  grief  back." 

Belle  looked  grave. 

"Jessie  is  a  dear  child,"  she  said,  softly.  "There  is 
more  in  her  little  head  than  in  most  children  of  her  age. 
Her  affections,  once  enlisted,  will  be  lasting." 

The  conversation  then  reverted  to  Mrs.  Wyllis  and 
her  husband.  Mrs.  Madison  wanted  to  hear  about  the 
places  they  had  visited  abroad  and  what  their  plans 
were  for  the  future.  At  the  last  question  Belle 
smiled. 

"  The  future  !"  she  repeated.  "  I  think  the  present 
b  About  all  that  Mr.  Claude  Wyllis  can  attend  to.  He 
is  a  typical  lily  of  the  field  in  that  respect.  He  not 
only  takes  no  thought  for  the  morrow,  but  not  even 
for  the  afternoon  or  evening.  It  is  very  lucky  for  him 
his  grandfather  did.  As  for  me,  my  future  plans  con- 
sist entirely  of  taking  the  Madison  family  down  to 
Swampscott  for  a  month  and,  that  being  my  only  aspir- 
ation, I  am  not  to  be  balked  of  it.  Cora,  put  in  a  word 
for  me.  Your  mother  is  almost  persuaded.' 


1S6 

The  girl  looked  her  questioner  frankly  in  the  eye  at 
she  answered,  "  Mother  and  Jessie  can  go,  if  ihey  think 
best,  but  as  for  me  it  would  be  impossible.  I  have  no 
slothes." 

Mrs.  Wyllis  made  an  impatient  movement. 

" Clothes!"  she  echoed.  "Who  wants  clothes  at 
the  shore  ?  You  will  want  a  bathing  suit — that  will 
take  four  yards  of  fifty-cent  flannel  and  I  will  help  you 
make  it  I  think  I  can  sew  yet,  though  it  is  some  time 
since  I  tried.  That  will  be  everything  you  will  need 
and  if  you  don't  wish  to  bathe  (you  ought,  I  always  do) 
you  won't  have  to  get  even  that.  It  is  very  silly  to 
parade  a  lot  of  costumes  at  a  place  like  Swampscott. 
The  thing  to  do  is  to  be  comfortable  and  one  suit  is 
enough  for  that." 

Cora  still  shook  her  head. 

"  Belle,  I  haven't  even  the  one." 

Mrs.  Wyllis  knitted  her  brows. 

"Not  the  one,  Cora?  What  are  you  in  at  this 
moment  ?" 

"  This  ?  A  suit  I  have  worn  three  summers,  Belle. 
Don't  think  I  am  finding  fault,"  she  added,  as  her  quick 
eye  discovered  a  shadow  on  her  mother's  face.  "  It  is 
good  enough  for  home — quite  good  enough — but  for 
a  seashore  place — Belle,  you  know  better  !" 

Thus  appealed  to,  Mrs,  Wyllis  eyed  the  dress  criti- 
cally 

"1  w.*h  you  were  not  io  dreadfully  proud,"  she 
said.  u  I  would  offer  you  anything,  either  of  my  own 
or  new  from  the  shop,  but  you  wouldn't  take  a. 
What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  Stay  here  in  Cambridge 
and  roast  instead  of  coming  to  see  me,  merely  on  a 
question  of  clothes  ?  Well,  your  mother  and  Jessie 


13  KWAMFMKtt,  1ST 

are  coming — that's  settled — and  111  find  some  way  to 
bring  you  around  yet." 

When  the  friends  were  alone  in  their  room  that 
night  Cora  asked,  "Is  Mr.  Wyllis  going  to  be  fit 
Swampscott  with  you  ?" 

"Ah!  that's  the  point,  is  it?"  said  Belle,  with  a 
glance  of  intelligence.  "  Well,  he  sha'n't  be  there  if 
you  don't  want  him.  I'll  make  him  keep  away. 
There  are  plenty  of  places  where  he  can  go." 

Cora  looked  bewildered. 

"  You  don't  want  him  with  you  ?" 

"  No  ;  not  when  he  is  displeasing  to  my  guests. 
Husbands  are  nuisances  from  their  very  nature,  but 
they  must  be  given  set  bounds.  When  I  want  Claude 
I  can  find  him  ;  when  I  don't,  I  inform  him  of  it.  It 
is  very  easy  if  you  begin  right." 

"  Then  you — quarrel  ?" 

"  Quarrel  ?  I  should  say  not.  I  would  like  to  see 
myself  quarrel  with  him  !" 

"  I  don't  understand  it,"  said  Cora. 

'  No,"  laughed  Belle,  "  and  I  can't  make  you.  I 
don't  understand  it  very  well  myself,  but  we  get 
along  splendidly  on  the  basis  we  adopted  at  the  start. 
We  have  agreed — not  formally,  you  know,  but  tacitly 
— not  to  interfere  too  much  with  each  other.  Claude 
does  things  I  don't  like  (this  afternoon,  for  example) 
but  I  am  sensible  enough  to  know  that  all  I  could  say 
would  not  entirely  stop  him,  and  I  pass  it  off  as  best  I 
can.  Probably  I  do  things  (nothing  very  bad.  of 
course)  that  he  doesn't  like,  and  he  treats  me  in  the 
same  manner.  I  guess  that's  our  secret" 

Cora  shook  her  head  again. 

"  It's  not  my  idea  of  marriage,  Belle,  if  yosH  *t 
me  say  so." 


IDS  A  n 

«  No,"  laughed  Belle.  "  I  know  what  your  idea  i«, 
'  Two  souls  with  but  a  single  thought,  two  hearts  that 
beat  as  one.'  That's  very  pretty  and  very  poetic,  but 
how  often  is  it  realized  ?  You  are  going  to  realize  it, 
my  dear,  of  course,  but  you  and  your  husband  will 
look  very  lonely  in  this  sad  world  " 

Cora  threw  her  arms  around  her  friend's  neck. 

"  But — are  you  happy  ?"  she  whispered.  "  I  think 
people  should  be  so  happy  together  when  they  are 
married  ;  and  if  they  are  not,  what  is  the  use  of  being 
married  at  all  ?" 

Belle  smiled  into  the  innocent  eyes. 

"  What's  the  use,  child  !  Is  it  of  no  use  to  have  a 
man's  checkbook  always  at  one's  disposal  ?" 

"  Then  poor  people  should  not  marry  ?"  said  Cora, 
drawing  her  own  inference. 

'*  Yes,  they  should,  dear,  and  then  they  should  get 
rich  as  quick  as  they  can." 

Mrs.  Wyllis  worked  her  plan  to  a  successful  issue, 
by  bringing  all  her  adroitness  into  play,  and  a  week 
later  she  had  the  pleasure  of  finding  the  entire  Madison 
family  installed  as  her  guests  at  a  Swampscott  villa. 
She  had  luckily  succeeded  in  hiring  the  house  fur- 
nished from  its  owner,  who  wished  t<  >  vacate  it  for  the 
balance  of  the  season,  and  thus  overcame  Cora's  disin- 
clination to  the  greater  publicity  of  a  hotel.  Mrs. 
Madison's  sallow  countenance  took  on  a  new  hue  after 
the  first  few  days  of  sea  air  ;  Jessie  played  with 
neighbors'  children  and  grew  "  as  brown  as  a  berry," 
whatever  shade  that  may  be  ;  and  Cora,  between  the 
pleasant  surroundings  and  her  friend's  efforts  to  make 
her  stay  charming,  enjoyed  a  most  pleasant  vacation. 

The  question  of  dress  had  been  settled  much  easier 
than  at  first  seemed  possible.  Belle  had  little  difficulty 


A  raw  WKCKI  AT  IWAMFMOTI.  13* 

te  pressing  a  money  present  into  the  hand  oi  the 
widow,  as  she  had  so  often  done  before.  One  new 
suit,  with  the  et  ceteras,  did  mot  cost  a  great  deal,  and 
Cora's  natural  beauty  was  of  a  kind  which  shines  best 
With  the  simplest  adornments. 

Although  it  had  been  understood  that  Mr.  Wyllis 
was  not  to  be  a  part  of  the  household,  there  was 
nothing  in  his  contract  to  prevent  him  calling,  and  he 
drove  up  one  day  in  his  dog-cart,  accompanied  by  Mr. 
Johnson.  Cora  had  sufficiently  recovered  from  her 
shock  to  receive  him  without  open  affront  and  an 
outsider  would  never  have  suspected  that  anything 
especially  unpleasant  had  occurred  between  them.  He 
explained  his  absence  from  his  wife  on  the  rather  lame 
plea  of  having  "  business  "  at  Marblehead  Neck,  and 
thp  presence  of  his  legal  adviser  gave  some  color  to  this 
assertion.  After  the  first  call,  as  he  drove  away  with 
Mr.  Johnson,  he  demanded  the  gentleman's  opinion 
of  his  wife's  fair  guest. 

"  Does  that  quiet  little  creature  strike  you  as  pos- 
sessing elements  of  danger  ?  Does  she  look  like  a  girl 
who  would  give  a  man  a  lot  of  blows  in  the  face  with 
fis*  and  whip  just  because  he  tried  to  steal  a  kiss  ?" 

Mr.  Johnson  had  heard  the  story,  told  in  Claude's 
ovm  peculiar  manner,  and  had  been  much  interested 
in  it 

"It  is  ve*-ry  re-markable,"  he  said,  in  his  slow,  legal 
w*y.  "  Ve-ry  re-markable !" 

"She  is  engaged  to  be  married,"  pursued  Claude, 
44 to  a  young  fellow  who  has  gone  to  Germany  io  study 
medicine — a  sort  of  protege  of  mine,  named  Elton.  I 
suppose  I  ought  to  tell  you  all  my  affairs,  but  that  is  a 
kind  of  side-show  that  I  don't  wish  generally  kuown, 
the  boy  is  so  devilish  proud.  He  draws  money  for  his 


140 

expenses  at  Brewster  &  Bassett's,  on  my  account,  and 
has  for  several  years.  It  will  take  about  three  uiort 
before  tie  gets  ready  to  practice  and  another  year  at 
least  before  he  can  make  enough  to  warrant  him  La 
taking  a  wife  on  his  hands.  It  is  a  shame,  I  th'nk,  for 
the  little  girl  to  wait  all  that  time,  but  what  can  b« 
done  ?  Belle  says  she  is  attached  to  Jack  beyond 
anything." 

Cora's  next  letter  to  Elton  would  bear  reading 
aloud  before  any  company.  There  was  little  of  the 
sentimental  between  them  as  yet,  and  the  girl  felt  a 
shy  disinclination  to  write  too  affectionately  to  a  man 
who  in  three  years  of  constant  association  had  kissed 
her  but  once.  But  it  was  a  letter  which  put  Jack  on 
the  very  pinnacle  of  uneasiness.  It  told  of  the  pleasant 
time  she  was  having  at  Swampscott  with  Belle,  of  the 
good  the  vacation  was  doing  her  mother,  and  of  the 
necessary  absence  "on  business"  of  Mr.  Wyllis. 
Much  of  it  was  devoted  to  her  entertainer,  whose  good- 
ness  seemed  to  the  girl  nearly  perfect 

Believing,  as  he  did  most  thoroughly,  in  Belle's 
inherent  wickedness — with  that  unexplained  Brazilian 
past  always  before  his  eyes — Elton  still  felt  it  his  duty 
to  warn  Cora  against  this  intimacy,  which  gave  hid 
the  liveliest  distrust  How  to  do  this,  without  giving 
his  true  reason,  became  a  problem  which  he  found 
most  difficult  to  solve.  He  dreaded  to  tell  Cora  what 
he  thought  Her  mind  was  too  pure  to  be  lightly 
sullied  by  even  the  insinuation  of  a  thing  so  vile. 
He  wanted  her  to  avoid  Belle — he  felt  that  she  must 
be  made  in  some  way  to  do  so — but  the  longer  h« 
thought  on  the  matter  the  more  desperate  it  became. 
He  wrote  a  dozen  letters,  erased  and  interlined  them, 
made  new  copies,  destroyed  them  and  tried  again, 


A  71W  TOMES   AT  SWAMPtOOTT.  141 

This  paragraph,  in  a  long  epistle  which  told  of  hi* 
life  at  his  new  quarters,  was  finally  resolved  upon  : 

"  Your  account  of  your  visit  to  Swampscott  was  read 
Long  before  this  will  reach  you,  you  will  be  again  at 
home  in  Cambridge,  and  I  suppose  Mrs.  Wyllis  will 
have  left  Boston.  I  shall  be  very  glad  if  this  is  so,  as 
I  would  rather  you  associate  with  her  as  little  as  pos- 
sible. Her  husband  is  my  best  friend  and  I  dislike  to 
write  this  on  his  account,  but  I  know  you  will  feel  that 
my  motive  is  right  and  bear  my  wish  in  mind." 

During  the  four  or  five  weeks  which  elapsed  be- 
tween the  date  of  the  sending  of  Cora's  letter  and 
that  in  which  she  received  the  answer  containing  the 
foregoing,  she  had,  as  Elton  supposed,  finished  her 
visit  at  the  shore  and  returned  to  Cambridge.  Her 
intimacy  with  Mrs.  Wyllis  had  been  so  extremely 
pleasant  that  the  girl  viewed  with  pain  the  prospect  of 
parting,  and  was  delighted  when  Belle  promised  to 
spend  a  short  time  with  her  before  leaving,  as  she 
intended  soon  to  do,  for  New  York.  As  Belle's  gen- 
erosity was  as  ample  as  her  means,  she  found  a  hun- 
dred ways  in  which  to  make  her  stay  agreeable  to  Mrs. 
Madison,  even  in  a  pecuniary  sense,  though  she  was  so 
well  liked  for  herself  alone  that  this  was  unnecessary. 
The  bright,  dashing  woman  carr'ed  the  house  by 
form  and  soon  had  only  to  make  a  suggestion  to  have 
it  complied  with.  She  was  really  very  fowd  of  Cora's 
companionship  and  set  her  heart  on  taking  her  to  New 
York  for  a  short  time.  To  secure  the  consent  of  botn 
Mrs.  Madison  and  her  daughter  to  such  an  importan 
Step  was  a  matter  of  some  difficulty,  but  after  much 
diplomatic  argument  it  was  at  last  accomplished.  Just 


141  A   WWW  WXKKB   AT   gTTAJCMCOTT. 

at  this  time  Jack's  letter  arrved,  and,  as  may  be 
imagined,  it  threw  Cora  into  an  excited  state  of  mind. 

Belle  found  her  in  her  room  in  tears,  so  unusual  a 
state  for  her  at  that  time  that  it  aroused  instant  appre- 
hension. The  woman's  quick  eye  espied  the  letter 
tying  on  the  table  and  she  said  : 

"  Why,  Cora  darling,  what  is  the  matter  ?  He  is  not 
111,  I  hope." 

The  girl  shook  her  head  sadly  and  tried  to  brush 
away  the  tears. 

"  No,  dear,  he  is  quite  well,  but — " 

She  hesitated  and  then,  in  the  warmth  of  her  in* 
genuous  nature,  she  cried  : 

"  Oh,  Belle  !  What  did  you  ever  do  to  him  ?  How 
can  he  ask  me  not  to  see  you  !" 

Mrs.  Wyllis's  brow  was  contracted  for  the  briefest 
moment  with  a  spasm  of  pain.  Then  she  said, 
gently  : 

"  Ah  !     It  is  that,  is  it  r 

"  Yes,"  said  Cora.     "  Listen  :" 

She  read  her  the  whole  paragraph,  though  her 
cheeks  burned.  It  seemed  the  only  thing  she  could  do. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  anything  so  cruel  ?"  Cora 
asked,  as  she  finished  reading.  "  T\t  give  up  you — the 
dearest  and  best  friend  I  have  in  the  irorld,  except 
mamma  and  Jessie  !" 

Mrs.  Wyllis  added  good  natmredly  : 

«  And  Jack." 

Cora  wiped  her  eyes  again, 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  "  she  said.  "  I  do  like  Jack  very 
much,  but  this  sort  of  thing  is  not  pleasant.  He  must 
give  me  reasons.  He  has  no  right  to  say  whom  I  shall 
and  shall  not  associate  with,  at  his  mere  rhim  I  shall 


Ud 

vrite    to-day    and    tell    him  so.      He  must  give  ma 
reasons,"  she  repeated. 

Mrs.  Wyllis  drew  the  girl  impulsively  into  her  lapv 
in  one  of  the  big  arm-chairs. 

"  And  if  he  should  give  you  reasons,  Cora  ?" 

The  girl  looked  at  her  friend  in  helpless  astonish- 
ment. 

"  If  he  should  ?"  she  echoed.     "  But — he  can't !" 

"  How  can  you  tell  ?"  asked  Belle.  "  He  may  have 
learned  much  about  me  that  you  do  not  know." 

Cora  looked  at  the  enigmatical  face  for  a  moment 
and  then  said  : 

"  Belle,  you  are  trying  me.  I  will  never  believe 
anything  against  you,  never  !  Unless — you  admit  it 
yourself." 

"  And  if  I  should  admit  it  ?"  asked  the  woman,  gaz- 
ing longingly  into  the  dark  eyes. 

Cora  smiled  incredulously. 

"  That  is  too  improbable  to  need  discussion  "  sh« 
said.  "  I  could  tell  a  bad  woman  by  looking  at  her,  I 
am  sure  I  could.  If  you  were  very  wicked  you  could 
not  look  me  in  the  face  and  talk  about  it,  as  you  arc 
doing." 

Belle  folded  the  girl  ir  a  warm  embrace. 

"  You  little  darling  !"  she  exclaimed,  "  the  wickedest 
woman  in  the  world  would  abandon  her  sins  if 
brought  in  contact  wi'h  your  perfect  innocence.  But 
— th.;s  is  all  very  sad  for  me.  Of  course  I  cannot  hope 
yon  will  go  home  with  me  now,  after  you  have  re- 
ceived such  express  orders  from  Germany." 

Cora  shrank  at  the  word  "orders  "  and  then  drew 
herself  up  proudly. 

"  Yes,  I  shall  go  with  you,"  she  said.  "  I  will  write 
»o  Jack  and  tell  him  what  I  am  doing  and  say  I  resetrt 


144  "  XT    KUSBAJn)    HAS    ff  JBYXB  AflUD." 

his  dictation  in  such  a  case.  It  will  be  time  enough 
for  him  to  '  order '  what  friends  I  shall  meet  when  we 
are  married.  We  will  see  what  he  says 


CHAPTER  XV. 

MlffT  HUSBAND  HAS  NKVXR  A8XSD." 

So  Cora's  answer  to  her  lover's  request  did  mot 
tend  to  alleviate  his  anxiety.  During  the  month  and  a 
half  before  it  came  he  had  persuaded  himself  that  she 
would  do  as  he  asked  without  question  and  had  suc- 
ceeded in  setting  his  mind  somewhat  at  ease.  *Vhen 
he  read  what  she  wrote,  and  saw  how  little  effect  his 
missive  had,  he  was  plunged  into  melancholy.  The 
thousands  of  miles  that  intervened,  the  long  time  it 
would  take  to  get  another  letter  to  her  and  the  knowl- 
edge that,  after  all,  he  could  not  give  her  the  full  rea- 
sons for  his  action  made  him  desperate. 

"  Good  heaven  !"  he  said  to  himself.  "  By  this 
time  she  has  been  three  weeks  in  New  York  with  that 
woman — they  two  together  and  Claude  away.  Cora 
is  wholly  unused  ID  the  manners  of  the  gay  world  and 
Mrs.  Wyilis  will  have  her  completely  in  her  power. 
Deep,  canning  and  unscrupulous  as  she  evidently  is, 
Cera  might  as  well  be  in  the  den  of  a  tigress.  What 
can  I  do— what  can  I  do  ?" 

In  this  state  of  mind  he  wrote  another  letter,  aad 
despairing  of  finding  easier  terms  seat  it  in  haste  at 
first  indited.  In  it  were  these  lines  : 


Utf 

•'  Your  request  that  I  should  tell  you  why  I  so  par- 
ticularly asked  you  not  to  associate  longer  with  Mrs. 
Wyllis,  and  your  statement  that,  in  spite  of  my 
request,  you  were  going  to  New  York  and  remain  tot 
some  time  at  her  house,  caused  me  the  deepest  pain. 
There  are  some  things,  Cora,  that  I  cannot  even  write, 
and  I  hoped  you  would  feel  such  confidence  in 
my  love  that  unquestioned  compliance  would  be  a 
pleasure.  You  asked  my  '  reasons.'  Must  I  tell  you 
thrre  is  a  dark  cloud  hanging  over  four  years  of  the 
life  of  this  woman — that  nobody  knows  how  or  where 
she  lived  in  Brazil  from  the  time  her  father  died  till 
she  returned  to  the  United  States  ?  Must  I  say  that 
before  she  married  my  friend  she  promised  to  explain 
those  years  to  me  and  hastened  her  wedding  day  in 
order  to  prevent  the  visit  which  I  had  threatened  to 
make.  Cora,  she  would  have  explained  those  years  to 
me  if  she  could.  Mr.  Wyllis  was  no  match  for  her. 
He  was  too  infatuated  to  ask  questions.  I  would  have 
made  any  sacrifice  rather  than  tell  you  this,  but  you 
have  forced  it  upon  me.  If  you  love  me,  if  you  wish 
to  live  a  happy  life,  avoid  as  you  would  a  pestilence  & 
woman  who  dares  not  open  to  the  light  of  day  four 
years  of  her  young  womanhood." 

When  Cora  received  this  she  was  enjoying,  perhaps, 
the  pleasantest  month  of  her  whole  life.  As  the  guest 
of  Mrs.  Wyllis,  at  the  Murray  Hill  Hotel,  she  had  been 
initated  into  a  round  which  she  had  never  before 
dreamed  of.  The  luxuriousness  of  her  sur  -oundings 
acted  on  the  girl's  sensitive  mind  like  a  drug  which 
both  soothes  and  stimulates.  Her  hostess,  with  the 
adroitness  of  which  she  was  mistress,  aided  in  every 
way  to  make  her  feel  at  ease  Cora's  natural  charm 


»f  manner  made  her  a  welcome  addition  to  the  circle 
In  which  they  moved.  Belle  had  no  want  of  money. 
A  carriage  whenever  they  wished  to  drive  in  the  park 
&r  to  the  large  stores  was  always  ready,  as  well  as  to 
the  theatre  or  opera,  where  the  music  and  gayety  fas- 
cinated the  unaccustomed  senses  of  the  girl.  Every 
time  she  thought  of  the  humdrum  life  at  home,  the 
common  round  ot  daily  duties,  her  spirits  fell.  Life 
as  Belle  lived  it — ah  ! — that  was  life.  The  view  behind 
the  scenes  of  wealth  was  very  pleasing,  and  the  pros- 
pect of  returning  to  the  abode  of  poverty  disagreeable 
in  the  extreme. 

Mrs.  Wyllis  had  a  very  limited  list  of  intimate 
acquaintances.  Among  those  who  were  in  the  habit 
of  calling  frequently  were  Mr.  Johnson,  the  lawyer, 
and  Mr.  Johnson's  sister.  The  latter  lady  was  a  widow 
named  Ashleigh,  who  presided  over  her  brother's 
domestic  establishment,  for,  though  a  single  man,  he 
kept  house  on  Thirty-third  Street,  not  far  from  Fifth 
Avenue.  Cora  was  shown  over  the  mansion  by  Mrs. 
Ashleigh  on  her  first  visit  and  duly  impressed  with  the 
importance  of  the  Johnson  line,  a  score  of  oil  portraits 
of  whom  adorned  the  wall.  The  furnishings  were 
largely  of  the  antique  style,  just  becoming  fashionable, 
with  the  advantage  that  their  antiquity  was  real.  A 
modern  piano,  however,  graced  the  drawing-room,  and 
a  modern  improvements "  were  to  be  noted  every- 
where. Cora's  fingers  on  the  musical  instrument  at 
the  earnest  request  of  Mrs.  Ashleigh,  awoke  the  echoes 
in  the  quiet  place. 

"I  wish  dear  Johi  had  a  wife  to  brighten  his  lift 
for  him,"  said  Mrs.  Ashleigh.  "He  has  lived  here 
ever  since  mother  died,  with  no  one  but  a  housekeeper 
and  servants,  until  I  came  ;  and  I  am  as  dull  as  t!.« 


147 

rest  John  is  too  much  absorbed  in  business.  A  wife 
would  draw  his  attention  from  his  cares  and  give  him 
something  to  live  for." 

"  I  have  heard,"  said  Cora,  looking  up,  "  of  a  Mitt 
Van  Rensellaer." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Mrs.  Ashleigh.  "  Miss  Van  Rensel- 
laer's  people  tried  to  arrange  that,  all  by  themselves, 
but  they  forgot,  strangely  enough,  to  consult  my 
brother.  John  has  a  great  deal  of  family  pride  and 
the  Van  Rensellaers  are  very  aristocratic ;  but  when 
he  weds  it  will  be  a  heart  affair.  No  combination  of 
wealth  or  ancestry  will  weigh  with  him  when  it  comes 
to  the  most  important  step  of  his  life." 

Mrs.  Wyllis  and  Cora  (Claude  still  keeping  absent 
"  on  business  ")  were  invited  by  the  Johnsons  to  din- 
ner one  evening,  and  everything  was  done  to  make  the 
girl  happy.  The  service  was  fine,  the  menu  elaborate 
and  the  conversation  bright.  Mr.  Johnson  contented 
himself  with  being  a  good  listener,  as  his  taciturnity 
at  most  places  except  the  bar  was  proverbial.  Every 
word  that  Cora  uttered  seemed  to  draw  his  attention 
and  his  eyes  were  rivited  upon  her  animated  face  as 
much  as  they  could  be  without  attracting  undue  at- 
tention. Cora  said  to  Belle  that  night  that  Mr.  John- 
eon  was  a  very  kind  and  agreeable  gentleman.  The 
idea  that  the  dinner,  or  the  lawyer's  frequent  calls* 
or  his  sister's  invitations  to  numberless  places,  had  any 
reference  to  her  presence  in  New  York,  never  entered 
the  unsophisticated  head  of  the  Cambridge  girl.  The 
reader,  being  more  astute,  must  have  seen  it  at  once. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this,  Jack's  letter  came,  and  it 
caused,  as  might  have  been  expected,  a  miniature 
earthquake.  Cora  read  it  with  mingled  astonishment 
and  indignation.  It  seemed  to  her  so  scandalcus,  so 


H8  "x 

unjust,  that  she  could  hardly  summon  patience  to  read 
It  to  the  close.  Jack  was  going  altogether  too  far ;  she 
had  no  doubt  of  that.  If  this  was  the  way  he  proposed 
to  begin,  it  was  as  well  to  know  it  now.  Such  a  gooU 
kind,  noble  woman  as  Belle  was  !  His  insfnuations 
were  preposterous  ! 

She  went  directly  to  Mrs.  Wyllis  with  this  letter,  as 
she  had  with  the  other. 

"  Oh,  Belle,  he  makes  me  so  angry  !"  she  said.  "  But 
it  can  be  easily  settled,  now  that  he  has  given  his  ridicu- 
lous '  reasons.'  Tell  me  about  those  years  he  speaks 
of,  that  I  may  write  him  what  a  goose  he  is  and  relieve 
his  mind  for  once  and  all." 

Mrs.  Wyllis's  face  grew  a  little  paler  as  she  saw  the 
perfect  confidence  with  which  the  girl  made  hei 
request. 

"  I  cannot  do  it,"  she  said,  firmly. 

"  Cannot  ?"  cried  Cora.  "  Are  there  then,  as  he 
says,  years  of  your  life  which  you  are  unable  to 
explain?  Oh,  Belle,  you  don't  mean  that !" 

Mrs.  Wyllis  hesitated  a  full  minute  before  replying. 
The  time  seemed  an  age  to  her  impetuous  companion. 

"  I  must  ask  you  to  trust  me,"  she  said,  finally. 
"  There  is  a  secret  in  my  life,  but  it  is  not  wholly  my 
own  and  I  cannot  reveal  it  yet,  even  to  you.  Mr 
Elton  has  chosen  to  put  upon  my  silence  the  most 
[injurious  construction.  I  wonder,"  she  added,  slowly, 
"if  you  will  do  the  same." 

The  girl  looked  much  distressed. 

"  There  is  no  person  in  the  word,"  continued  Mr*. 
V*  yllis,  solemnly,  "  and  I  mean  ill  that  implies — for 
I  except  none — whom  I  love  as  I  do  yoi.  But  if  you 
are  unwilling  to  trust  me ;  if  you  demand  that  I 
repeal  what  I  have  no  right  to  do  ;  if  y»u  are  aot 


tent  to  wait  until  the  time  comes,  when  I  can  tell  709 
all — we  must  part." 

The  distressed  look  on  Cora's  countenance  did  lot 
abate. 

"  But  your  husband — he  knows  ?"  she  said,  deeper^ 
ately. 

Mrs.  Wyllis  shook  her  head. 

"No  ;  and  I  will  do  him  this  justice — he  has  never 
asked.  While  you  friend  Elton  was  ready  to  pursua 
me  even  to  the  altar,  unless  I  would  tell  him  all, 
Claude  expressly  said  he  wished  no  explanations.  An 
odd  thing,  is  it  not,  that  one  man  could  take  me  for  a 
wife  and  be  content  to  let  me  keep  my  own  secrets, 
while  *he  other,  with  no  possible  personal  interest  in 
me,  would  have  wrenched  them  from  me  as  the  price 
of  my  happiness." 

Cora  began  to  feel  a  little  ashamed  of  Jack  and 
then  of  herself.  She  was  not  satisfied,  but  she  saw  no 
way  to  make  herself  more  so.  At  last  she  said  : 

"  Belle,  dear,  I  will  trust  you,  for  I  am  sure  I  may 
But  tell  me  just  this  ;  say  it  in  your  own  way  :  There 
is  nothing  you  would  wish  me  not  to  know  if  you  had 
a  right  to  tell  r" 

Mrs.  Wyllis  rose  and  clasped  her  hands  in  front  of 
her. 

"  Now  you  are  getting  as  bad  as  he,"  she  said.  "  I 
cannot  be  cajoled  into  any  statement  whatever. 
Either  you  will  trust  me  or  you  will  not.  Which  shall 
it  be,  Cora?" 

Tears  came  into  the  girl's  eyes. 

"  I  do  trust  you,"  she  said.  "  God  knows  I  do ! 
But — what  can  I  write  to  Jack  ?" 

The  least  lovable  of  the  many  moods  of  tall 
strange  woman  came  to  the  surface. 


1*0 

"  I  know  what  TV  write,"  she  said,  with  set  teeth, 
"  but  you  can  do  as  you  like.  He  would  have  torn  my 
husband  from  me  if  he  could,  and  now  he  has  take* 
you.  Well,  good-by  !" 

She  held  out  her  hand  to  the  astonished  girl,  who 
took  it,  but  would  not  let  it  go. 

"  People  drive  us  wild  !"  pursued  the  woman,  more 
to  herself  than  to  Cora,  "and  then  wonder  at  the 
things  we  do.  I  could  have  crushed  that  man  Elton 
as  I  could  a  fly  under  my  hand,  but  I  forbore.  He 
was  not  worth  the  effort.  He  stood  there,  in  that 
Boston  railway  station,  demanding  of  me — of  m< — how 
I  lived  in  Brazil  for  four  years  after  my  father  died  ! 
He  uttered  an  innuendo  which  made  me  ask  him  tc 
look  me  in  the  eyes  and  repeat  it,  that  I  might  see 
how  a  man  appeared  with  such  words  on  his  tongue. 
He  looked  at  me  and  there  was  no  shame  in  his  face. 
I  could,  with  one  word,  have  dealt  him  as  hard  a  blow, 
but  I  would  not — because  I  knew  you  loved  him  !" 

Cora  uttered  a  low  cry,  released  her  clasp  GO 
Belle's  hand,  and  sank  to  the  floor. 

"I  could  strike  him  any  hour,"  continued  the  ex- 
asperated woman,  "  and  he  would  never  rise  from  the 
blow,  but  I  am  not  contemptible  enough  to  do  it.  It 
took  a  man  to  strike  such  a  girl  as  I  was,  with  threats 
about  what  he  would  do  unless  I  revealed  a  past  of 
which  I  could  not  even  think  without  agony.  Merci- 
less !  merciless  !  And  now,  when  I  have  but  one 
friend  left  to  love  me,  he  would  take  her,  too  !" 

She  seemed  only  then  to  realize  that  Cora  had 
fallen  to  the  carpet  and,  sitting  down  beside  the  girl, 
whose  face  was  a  picture  of  woe,  she  drew  her  to  her 
breast. 

"You  will  know  vaars  from  now,  that  no  ou«  ever 


MT   JTUSBAJTB    KAJ   OT!V»    ASKKD."  151 


loved  you  better  —  ever  will  love  you  better  —  than 
Belle  Vaughan.  You  will  see,  then,  whether  those  who 
profess  deeper  affection  show  it  in  more  tangible  ways 
than  I.  The  coachman  will  take  you  and  your  things 
to  the  boat.  So  long  as  you  have  in  your  heart  this 
feeling  of  mistrust  you  will  not  want  to  see  me.  If 
there  ever  comes  a  time  when  you  can  trust  me  with- 
out reservation,  send  and  I  will  come  to  you.  Until 
then  I  could  not  bear  it,  and  it  will  not  be  your  desire." 

She  rose  and  was  about  to  leave  the  room  when 
Cora  cried  . 

"  Belle,  must  we  part  like  this  ?" 

"  Yes,"  was  the  cold  reply.  "  Until  you  can  feeJ 
that  my  face  is  an  honest  one  it  will  do  you  no  good 
to  look  upon  it." 

It  was  early  in  the  afternoon  and  the  Fall  River 
boat  does  not  leave  until  five.  After  packing  her 
things  —  which  did  not  take  long  —  Cora  sat  down 
and  wrote  to  Elton.  She  told  him  that  the  pleasant- 
cst  part  of  her  life  had  been  broken  into  by  his  letter, 
which  she  regarded  as  unreasonable.  She  described 
the  effect  it  had  upon  Belle,  and  said  the  result  was  a 
separation  which,  while  it  might  please  him,  gave  her 
the  most  poignant  grief.  Then,  angry  at  his  praise 
of  Claude,  she  added  the  story  of  the  assault  in  the 
buggy  and  of  its  resu'.ts  'Your  dear  friend,"  she 
said,  "  that  you  speak  of  so  highly,  offered  me  the 
greatest  insult  of  my  life.  His  wife  has  done  every- 
thing not  only  for  me,  but  for  mamma.  If  I  am  to 
renounce  her,  I  think  you  ought  to  know  his  charac- 
ter." 

She  took  her  boat  without  seeing  Belle  again, 
feeling  as  if  her  heart  was  breaking.  And  the  littli 
letter  she  had  written  took  its  wav  across  the  se^ 


152  MM.    Alin.KTOH   TAXIS   ZOOMS. 

freighted  with  more  direful  consequences  thaa  it 
would  seem  possible  to  carry  in  one  half-ounce  of  imk 
and  paper. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

MAS.  ASHLKIGH    TAKES    ROOMS. 

Nothing  was  ever  duller  than  Cora  Madison's  life 
seemed  to  her  after  she  returned  t*  Cambridge.  The 
dead  leaves  which  fell  from  the  trees  in  front  of  the 
house  had  not  less  of  heart  in  them  than  the  girl,  who 
felt  that  everything  had  suddenly  combined  to  make 
her  miserable.  To  add  to  her  discouragement,  her 
mother  grew  steadily  feebler.  Jack's  room  remained 
tenantless,  reducing  the  already  too  scant  income  of 
the  family.  She  could  not  write  to  Belle  and  none  of 
her  other  female  friends  seemed  to  fill  the  great  void. 
It  was  useless  to  write  more  to  Elton  until  it  should 
be  seen  how  h«  received  the  last  letter,  which,  while 
she  felt  it  just,  was  also,  she  knew,  severe.  So  the 
dreary  days  went  on  and  Cora  grew  thinner  and  paler, 
until  she  looked  as  much  of  an  invalid  as  her  mother. 
Four  long  weeks  passed,  when  one  day  she  was 
intensely  startled,  on  answering  the  door  bell,  (they 
kept  not  even  one  servant  now)  to  find  standing  there 
Mr.  Claude  Wyllis. 

Claude  lifted  his  hat  politely  and  she  saw  that  his 
face  was  very  grave  Without  hesitation  she  invited 
him  into  the  parlor,  and,  when  she  had  also  entered, 
closed  the  hall  door.  She  knew  instinctive!  y  that  h« 
had  news  of  importance 


MM.    4iWT,liTftH   TAXM   XOOXS.  153 

"  That's  a  good  girl,"  were  his  first  words.  "  I've 
been  fretting  ever  since  I  started  for  fear  you  would 
refuse  to  speak  to  me  alone,  and  what  I've  got  to  say 
requires  a  private  audience.  But,  by  the  way,  Cora, 
you're  looking  devilish  ill  ;  and  I'm  afraid  what  I'm 
going  to  say  won't  make  you  any  better." 

She  took  a  chair  opposite  to  his  and  only  answered 
him  by  a  look  of  anxiety. 

"  I  don't  know  how  to  begin  it,"  he  said.  "  You 
and  Belle  have  fallen  out  over  something,  she  won't 
say  what.  But  you've  done  something  else  that  has 
made  trouble  and  will  make  more  if  we  can't  find 
some  way  to  get  around  it.  You've  written  to  Jack 
Elton  about  my  conduct  in  the  buggy  that  day." 

Cora's  scarlet  cheeks  answered  for  her.  She  stam- 
mered, "  I  don't  understand  " — when  he  interrupted  : 

"No,  of  course  you  don't,  or  you  wouldn't  have 
done  it.  You  didn't  know — how  could  you  ? — that  I 
had  been  furnishing  Jack  money  for  his  education — it's 
all  out  now,  so  concealment  is  useless — and  that  he 
was  to  draw  on  me  for  all  he  wanted  till  his  income  as 
a  doctor  made  it  unnecessary.  You  'didn't  know  that. 
Nobody  did,  but  Jack  and  I — and  Belle,  of  course — she 
finds  out  everything — and  the  bankers  he  drew  on,  and 
Mr.  Johnson,  my  lawyer — I  believe  that's  all.  I  would 
rather  have  told  you,  a  thousand  times  rathei,  than 
have  had  you  written  him  that  about  me,  which  I 
never  dreamed  you  would  think  of.  For  Jack  is  a  fiery 
Cello w,  and  what  does  he  do  when  he  gets  your  letter — 
Lord  knows  what  you  told  him  !  He  jtst  writes  me, 
in  the  hottest  anger,  that  he'll  never  use  another  cent 
of  my  money,  not  even  to  buy  a  ticket  home  so  that 
he  can  thrash  me,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  And 
there  the  scamp  is,  four  thousand  miles  or  so  away, 


1M  mm 

without  a  kreutzer  to  bless  himself  with,  his  education 
gone  to  smash  and  his  career  ended,  unless  some  one 
knocks  some  sense  into  him.  Now,  what  are  we  to 
do?" 

Cora  laid  her  head  on  her  hands  and  sobbed.  The 
news  was  worse  than  anything  she  had  conceived  of. 
Jn  her  rashness  she  had  undoubtedly  ruined  Jack 
irreparably.  Wyllis  essayed  several  expressions  de- 
signed to  give  her  comfort  and  then  arose  and  walked 
about  the  room.  When  he  saw  no  sign  that  her  grief 
was  likely  to  abate  he  became  very  sympathetic.  He 
drew  his  chair  to  hers  and  put  his  hand  soothingly  on 
her  head.  She  never  could  have  believed  it  possible, 
but  he  seemed  at  that  moment  the  only  friend  she  had, 
and  even  when  he  leaned  over  and  kissed  her  gently 
on  the  forehead  she  made  no  movement  to  repulse 
him. 

"  Cora,"  he  said,  smoothing  her  hair  back,  "  you 
mustn't  take  on  so.  I  came  here  for  advise.  It  is 
serious,  but  perhaps  it  can  be  mended.  Jack  has 
no  right  to  do  a  thing  like  this — no  moral  right,  in 
common  business  honesty — and  I  have  so  written  him. 
He  began  to  take  my  money  over  five  years  ago,  under 
an  agreement  that  he  would  complete  a  medical  edu- 
cation and  then  pay  it  back.  If  he  quits  the  university 
now  he  will  lose  all  chance  of  returning  the  twenty-five 
hundred  dollars  or  so  that  he  has  drawn.  I  have  senl 
him  all  that  argument  by  mail.  I've  told  him, '  You  can 
be  as  mad  at  me  as  you  like,  dear  boy,  and  no  doubt  I 
deserve  it,  but  you  must  stick  to  you;  business  agree- 
ments.' Do  you  think  that  will  do  him  any  good  ?" 

Cora  raised  her  melancholy  eyes  to  his. 

H  None  whatever,"  she  said,  sadly  "  I  am  sure  Jack 
will  never  touch  another  penny  of  your  money,  aud 


KB*.   AiHIJHSM   TJJOB  BOOMS.  155 

what  he  will  do  I  cannot  guess.  He  told  me  he  had 
bis  education  to  pay  for  in  the  future,  but  I  never 
thought  of  you  in  that  connection.  I  have  ruined  him 
tad  we  must  bear  the  punishment  together." 

Claude  looked  discouraged. 

"  But — he's  such  an  ass  ! — excuse  me,  Miss  Madison 
— I  mean  Cora — how  can  he  live  a  week  in  a  God-for- 
j&ken  German  town  with  nothing  in  his  pocket  ?  Of 
\x>urse  he  will  look  for  work  and  try  to  keep  from  star- 
vation in  that  way,  but  it's  a  slim  chance.  I'd  take  the 
steamer  and  run  after  him,  but  I  really  think  he'd 
break  my  head  at  sight.  Such  a  devilish  row  over  a 
kiss  !" 

He  uttered  the  last  sentence  with  a  dim  idea  that 
it  might  force  a  smile  on  the  girl's  face,  but  it  had  ne 
such  effect.  She  did  not  look  as  if  she  could  ever 
smile  again.  The  expression  on  her  countenance  was 
terrible  to  see.  She  was  thinking  of  Jack,  gloomy  and 
despairing,  in  that  foreign  city,  without  friends  or 
money.  What  might  he  not  be  tempted  to  do  ?  Sui- 
cide even  was  possible !  And  in  the  midst  of  these 
horrors  a  voice  seemed  to  be  continually  repeating 
"AH  your  fault— a»  your  fault !" 

They  talked  it  over  a  while  longer,  but  neither 
of  them  seemed  able  to  make  a  suggestion  that 
would  meet  the  case.  Claude,  with  his  natural  buoy- 
ancy, tried  to  inspire  the  girl  with  hope,  but  he  was 
unsuccessful.  Her  spirit  was  completely  crushed. 
When  he  was  about  to  leave  he  drew  her  to  him  in  a 
brotherly  way,  talking  encouragingly,  and  imprinted 
a  kiss  on  her  cheek.  She  was  too  broken  to  resist 
even  this  ;  indeed  she  hardly  noticed  it.  He  looked 
sorrowfully  at  her  for  a  moment  amd  then  vanished, 
sayiag  he  would  return  another  day. 


lii  MM.  AflMUTOH  TAXBi  JROOMB. 

A  few  days  later  a  carriage,  cottaining  Mrs.  Aih 
leigh,  drove  up  to  the  house.  Cora's  troubles  had 
given  her  a  settled  expression  of  sadness,  which  the 
visitor  was  quick  to  notice,  but  too  wise  to  comment 
upon.  What  she  wanted  was  to  know  if  she  could 
hire  two  or  three  rooms  for  a  while,  where  she  could 
make  her  home  during  a  temporary  stay  in  Cam- 
bridge. The  girl's  reply  that  they  had  no  apartments 
good  enough  for  the  lady,  was  met  with  a  request  to 
see  what  there  were.  Jack's  room  and  another  lead- 
ing from  it  were  shown,  and  at  once  pronounced  quite 
satisfactory. 

"  If  I  can  have  these,  with  the  privilege  of  using 
the  parlor,  I  shall  be  delighted,"  said  Mrs.  Ashleigh. 
"  The  price  will  be  no  object  at  all,  and  I  dread  so 
much  going  to  those  Boston  hotels  that  I  shall  esteem 
it  a  great  favor  to  come  here." 

Mrs.  Madison  was  reclining  in  a  rocking  chair 
when  Mrs.  Ashleigh  was  introduced  to  her.  It  was 
only  for  a  small  part  of  each  day  now  that  the  invalid 
left  her  bed.  Her  slender  resources  made  the  pros- 
pect of  an  addition  to  her  household  very  agreeable  ; 
and,  as  Mrs.  Ashleigh  insisted  on  nearly  doubling  the 
price  she  fixed,  declaring  it  altogether  too  low  for  a 
**  transient "  rate,  there  was  no  troiJale  in  coming  to  a 
satisfactory  arrangement.  Almost  before  the  Madi- 
8ons  were  aware  of  it,  their  new  tenant,  with  her  maid, 
was  installed  on  the  premises,  and  seemed  completely 
at  home  there.  Within  another  week  she  had  secured 
Mrs.  Madison's  consent  to  bring  a  cock  from  New 
York  and  have  her  meals  served  with  the  test,  she 
agreeing  to  pay  all  the  family's  provision  t«  Us  for  the 
privilege.  A  carriage  and  horses  were  also  domi- 
ciled in  a  stable  near  Harvard  square  and  frequently 


Iff 

ased  by  the  lady.  The  widow  found  a  short  ride  ia 
the  middle  of  the  day  very  beneficial,  and  Jessie 
thought  the  frequent  invitations  which  she  received 
great  treats.  Cora  resisted  all  persuasions  at  first. 
but  finally  accepted  occasionally.  All  this  time 
•not  a  word  came  from  Jack,  and  she  grew  thinner  and 
paler. 

At  last,  a  letter  did  come,  but  there  was  little  in  it 
to  cheer  the  despondent  girl.  It  was  dated  at  Berlin, 
where  Jack  said  he  had  been  obliged  by  unforeseen  cir- 
cumstances to  go  for  a  while.  Its  language  would 
have  been  very  mysterious  to  her  but  for  the  explana- 
tion she  had  received  from  Wyllis,  in  the  light  of  which 
it  was  perfectly  clear.  Among  the  things  Jack  wrote 
were  these  : 

"You  promised  to  wait  for  me,  when  we  both 
thought  I  would  be  able  to  return  in  three  years  with 
my  diploma.  I  fear  now  it  will  be  much  longer, 
though  I  mean,  if  possible,  to  achieve  it  sometime. 
How  long  would  you  wait — how  long  ought  I  to  ask 
you  to  wait  ? — these  are  the  questions  that  are  troub- 
ling me.  I  sometimes  feel  that  I  have  taken  advan- 
tage of  your  youth  and  inexperience  to  demand  too 
great  a  pledge.  If  I  have,  write  and  tell  me  so  and, 
at  whatever  personal  suffering,  I  will  release  you." 

There  was  not  a  word  about  Wyllis  and  his  wife, 
which  seemed  strange,  nor  any  explanation  of  his  pres- 
ent position  or  reasons  for  quitting  Freiburg.  Cora 
was  glad  to  get  the  letter,  for  it  proved  that  Jack  was 
still  alive  and  that  was  something.  It  aroused  strange 
thoughts,  however.  Could  it  be  that  she  and  Jack 
Blight  yet  be  teparated— -that  all  the  years  she  had 


168  MM.    AflMLZiaH   TAKM   KOOMt. 

considered  herself  as  his  future  wife  might  count  M 
naught ? 

It  brought  a  possibility  into  her  life  which,  while  it 
gave  her  a  dull  pain,  set  her  thoughts  into  a  new  chan- 
nel, and  so  far  relieved  the  pressure  on  her  mind. 

She  was  a  good  while  in  answering  the  letter, 
and  when  she  wrote  said  little  except  on  ordinary 
things  ;  how  her  mother  and  Jessie  were ;  that  a  new 
lodger  had  come  ;  that  Cambridge  had  changed  little 
since  he  left.  As  he  had  not  spoken  of  Claude  or 
Belle,  neither  did  she,  and  as  for  his  suggestions  regard- 
ing her  engagement  she  did  not  know  how  to  answer 
him.  There  was  a  vague  feeling  in  her  heart  that  if 
Jack  really  cared  so  much  for  her  as  he  professed,  he 
would  have  told  her  about  his  letter  to  Wyllis  and  not 
leave  her  to  find  it  out  by  accident.  He  had  been 
so  free  in  demanding  things  of  her  since  he  weni 
away,  he  might  have  confided  his  troubles  as  well. 
Oh  !  how  distance  distorts  the  dearest  and  sweetest 
things  and  makes  a  noble  action  seem  a  selfish  one  ! 

Wyllis  called  several  times.  He  was  evidently  in 
genuine  distress  at  the  turn  affairs  had  taken. 

"  By  George  !"  he  said  to  Cora,  "  I  wish  you  and 
Belle  would  make  up.  That  woman  has  got  the  great- 
est head  to  unravel  things,  and  if  she  would  take  hold 
of  this  she  would  find  the  end  of  the  string  in  no  time. 
I've  tried  to  get  her  interested,  but  she  shuts  down  on 
me  like  a  steel-trap.  What  devilish  queer  things 
women  are.  Two  of  them  will  be  hugging  and  kissing 
like  anything  one  day  and  the  next  you  couldn't  pull 
them  together  with  a  rope  and  tackle.  I  said  to  her 
»he  other  day,  *  Belle,  you  must  help  me  out  on  thu 
Elton  matter;  by  George!"  I  say*,  'the  fellow  may 
starve  over  there  !'  And  what  do  you  think  she  »aid  /— 


MBS.    ABHUH9H  TJJCES   ROOMS.  Iff 

1  Let  him  rifcrtx  !'  Now,  that's  a  nice  kind  of  way  for 
a  woman  to  talk,  isn't  it — '  Let  him  starve  /'" 

Claude  gave  a  long  whistle  to  relieve  his  over 
charged  feelings. 

"  This  is  devilish  hard  on  you,  too,"  pursued  the 
impetuous  man.  "  Lord  knows  when  Jack  will  ever 
get  ready  to  be  married  at  the  rate  he  is  going  on ! 
He  may  keep  you  dillydallying  along  for  a  dozen 
years,  till  you  are  an  old  maid,  and  then  return  to 
plowing  and  hunting  bear  in  the  West.  That's  what 
he  was  made  for,  and  I  sometimes  wish  I'd  sent  him 
bacfc  there  instead  of  trying  to  make  a  doctor  of  him. 
A  doctor  !  He  took  me — or  I  took  him,  I  should  say 
—out  there  last  year,  and  it  seemed  to  delight  him  to 
see  the  confounded  crops  and  stupid  old  bluffs  and 
prairies.  He  told  me  there  was  a  secret  cave  of  his  up 
on  a  hill,  where  he  used  to  hide  as  a  boy.  If  yo« 
don't  look  out.  Cora,  he'll  take  you  there  to  live  whe» 
he  marries  you.  It'll  be  about  all  the  home  he'll  be 
able  to  afford." 

Cora  answered  sadly. 

"  Don't  mind  me,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice.  "  It  has 
been  Jack's  misfortune  that  he  ever  knew  me.  I  caa 
never  make  up  the  loss  I  have  caused  him/' 

But  CUude  demurred. 

"  Come,  now,  I  won't  have  that !"  he  said.  "  The 
blame  is  on  my  shoulders  and  on  no  one  else's.  You 
shouldn't  have  looked  so  outrageously  pretty,  though, 
that  day  in  the  buggy.  If  1  was  to  have  been  hung 
for  it,  I  couldn't  have  helped  what  I  did." 

Cora  looked  at  him  reprovingly  : 

44  Why  do  you  persist  in  saying  such  things  ?  Yo« 
know  very  well  it  is  wrong." 

•*  Why  do  I  ?"  he  retorted.     "  Becauw*  it's  my  nature 


160  "I'M  TOT  ROOT P 

to  say  precisely  the  opposite  thing  to  a  girl  that  I 
ought  to  say.  I  do  it  all  the  time,  though  it's  th« 
most  senseless  of  habits.  If  I  go  into  a  store  or  res- 
taurant where  there  are  girls,  do  you  think  I  buy 
what  I  want  and  pay  for  it  in  a  decent  way  ?  No.  ! 
say  some  devilish  silly  thing  that  I  ought  to  be  kicked 
out  for.  Half  of  them  like  it  and  show  they  do, 
and  the  other  half  like  it  and  pretend  they  don't. 
You've  got  to  get  used  to  me,  Cora.  I'm  like  this  New 
England  climate — one  can  live  through  it  after  a 
conple  of  winters." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
"I'M  YIRY  SORRY,  TF  YOU  RKALLY  MXAW  IT!' 

One  day,  as  Claude  was  driving  away  from  the 
Madison  house,  he  saw  Miss  Jessie  comiag  from  school 
and  stopped  to  speak  to  her. 

"Well,  how  is  Jack  Elton's  little  sister  to-day  r"  h« 
asked.  "  You  remember  Jack  used  to  say  he  was  your 
4  big  brother.' " 

The  child's  large  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"I'm  pretty  we/1,"  she  answered,  "bat  Jack  never 
writes  to  me  now.  I  heard  Cora  tell  mamma  he  had 
moved  to  a  new  place.  Perhaps  he  doesn't  get  my 
letters." 

"Ah,  ha!"  he  cried,  gaily.  "So  y«u  correspond 
with  Jack,  do  you  ?  How  often  do  you  write,  now  r" 

44 Every  week,"  said  Jessie,  earnestly.  "And  it  is 
ever  two  months  since  I  had  a«  answer.  Is  there  a*y 


w  fM  VMY   «0««T  P  161 

way  I  could  find  out  whether  he  gets  my  letters  and 
what  his  new  address  is  ?" 

Claude  was  affected  by  the  sombre  aspect  of  the 
little  face. 

"  You  may  be  sure  all  your  letters  are  forwarded  to 
Jack, "  he  said,  "  if  you  send  them  to  the  old  address 
at  Freiburg.  I  think  he  is  moving  about  and  in  no 
settled  place.  Jack  has  had  some  trouble,  you  see — 
about  money — and  doesn't  feel  like  writing ;  but  don't 
you  get  the  idea  into  your  head  that  he  has  forgotten 
his  Jessie.  When  things  come  around  right  again 
you'll  get  the  first  letter,  depend  upon  it !" 

Jessie  looked  a  little  brighter. 

"  But,"  she  said,  "  he  has  written  to  Cora ;  or  how 
would  she  know  he  had  moved  ?" 

"  Ah !"  said  Claude,  knowingly,  "  but  Cora  is  his 
sweetheart,  you  know,  the  girl  he  is  to  marry  when  he 
gets  to  be  a  great  doctor,  and  he  has  to  write  to  her." 

Over  the  child's  face  passed  a  look  of  quick  com- 
prehension. 

"  Oh  !  Will  Jack  marry  Cora  !"  she  cried,  clasping 
her  hands  in  joy.  "  Are  you  sure  of  that  ?  Then  we 
will  have  him  all  the  time,  and  never  be  parted 
again !" 

Like  sunshine  bursting  through  clouds  was  the 
radiant  look  which  illumined  the  tear-stained  face. 
Claude  saw  that  he  had  unintentionally  revealed  a 
secret,  for  he  had  never  doubted  that  Jessie  knew  the 
relations  of  her  sister  and  Elton  ;  but  it  was  too  kite 
to  recede. 

"  I  asked  Jack  one  day,  ever  so  long  ago,"  the  child 
continued,  "if  he  was  to  marry  Cora.  He  looked 
much  displeased  and  said  I  must  never  say  such  a 
thing  again.  How  can  anybody  tell  what  lovers  will 


162  '*  I'M  TXET  torn  P 

do  ?  They  always  act  so  strange  !  Now  Cora,  whea 
I  speak  of  Jack,  will  hardly  answer  me.  What  is  the 
reason  ?  Why  does  being  in  love  make  folks  differ- 
ent from  everybody  else  ?" 

Claude  paused  before  he  answered  a  question 
which  has  puzzled  wiser  heads  than  Jessie's.  He  had 
to  adapt  his  reply  to  the  capacity  of  his  auditor. 

"Well,"  he  said,  finally.  "  I  should  put  it  in  this 
way  :  Cora  is  sad  because  jack  is  in  trouble  ;  Jack  is 
sad,  too,  for  the  same  reason,  which  may  compel  him 
to  put  off  his  marriage  a  very  long  time.  If  he  and 
your  sister  were  together  again,  I  think  you  would 
find  their  troubles  disappearing  very  quickly." 

"Oh,  I  wish  they  were!"  cried  Jessie.  "I  did  not 
want  him  to  go.  There  are  very  nice  doctors  who 
never  went  to  Germany,  and  why  need  Jack  ?  I  am 
awfully  lonesome  without  him.  Mamma  is  sick  and 
Cora  is  cross.  I've  no  one  to  talk  with  or  to  get  to  help 
me  with  my  studies." 

That  night  Jessie  wrote  Jack  along  letter,  telling 
with  a  child's  frankness  what  she  had  learned  about 
him  and  urging  him  to  return  before  Cora  got  so  pale 
that  he  wouldn't  know  her.  "That  nice  man,  Mr. 
Wyllis,"  she  wrote,  "  that  you  used  to  ride  with,  comes 
here  to  see  Cora,  and  he  tells  me  you  are  going  to 
marry  her.  I  am  very  glad,  Jack,  for  I  love  you  very 
much  myself,  and  I  shall  be  glad  when  you  come  to 
live  at  our  house  forever.  Let  the  old  German  doctor- 
school  go  and  come  back  to  Cambridge,  were  you  can 
learn  just  as  much — a  doctor  here  told  me  so— and 
then  we  will  all  be  happy  once  more." 

She  bought  a  stamp  with  some  money  of  her  owa, 
and  sent  the  letter  without  a  word  to  any  one. 

When  Jack  received  it,  he  was  working  for  littte 


"I'M  TOY  •OOTI*  168 

more  than  his  board  as  courier  at  a  hotel  jn  Berlin. 
.Ie  had  not  one-quarter  enough  money  to  pay  his  pas* 
sage  to  America,  had  he  been  disposed  to  go,  which 
indeed,  he  was  not.  The  ingenuous  statement  of  th« 
ctild  that  Wyllis  was  in  the  habit  of  calling  on  Cora 
completed  his  cup  of  misery.  Was  Cora,  then,  a 
deceitful  creature,  who  would  at  one  moment  write  a 
letter  declaring  that  a  man  had  grossly  insulted  her, 
and  at  the  next  welcome  him  as  a  guest  at  her  home  ? 
His  sense  of  injury  at  Claude's  action  grew  deeper 
when  he  reflected  that  he  might  be  attempting  to  ruin 
the  unsophisticated  girl.  For  what  other  reason,  said 
Jack  to  himself,  could  Wyllis  continue  to  visit  her,  after 
his  wife  and  she  had  parted  companionship  ?" 

What  could  Elton  write  to  her  that  she  did  not 
already  know  ?  It  seemed  to  him  he  must  learn  to 
renounce  the  hope  01  his  life  in  the  face  of  the  astound 
ing  developments  of  the  last  few  months.  But  when 
he  tried  to  do  this — when  he  attempted  to  reconcile 
himself  to  the  thought  of  giving  up  Cora — he  learned, 
as  others  have  done  before  him,  how  deep  a  root  love 
had  taken  in  his  heart.  He  could  argue  it  out,  reason 
it  away,  but  there  it  stayed,  after  all.  So  Jack  worked 
on,  waiting  for  the  succor  which  it  seemed  would 
never  come,  but  he  wrote  no  letters. 

Mr.  Johnson,  the  lawyer,  called  occasionally,  as  was 
very  natural,  to  see  his  sister,  Mrs.  Ashleigh,  at  the 
Madison  house.  Their  interviews  were  held  in  the 
parlor,  and  it  was  also  natural  that  Cora  should  be 
asked,  on  one  pretext  or  another,  to  meet  him  there. 
She  was  very  poor  company,  she  felt,  but  she  deemed 
it  he**  duty  to  oblige  her  mother's  best  paying  tenant 
in  every  reasonable  way.  Things  had  been  easiei  in  a 
pecuniary  sense,  &<nce  Mrs.  Ashleigh's  arrival,  and  tuts 


164  "  I'M  TOY  IOMT  r 

was  not  to  be  despised.  The  lady  often  hinted  ta 
Cora  that  when  the  time  came  for  her  to  return  to  New 
York  she  hoped  the  girl  would  pay  her  a  long  visit 
there,  but  Cora's  previous  experience  made  her  disin- 
clined to  do  this.  She  had  loved  Belle  as  she  never 
could  love  Mrs.  Ashleigh,  and  yet  trouble  had  arisen 
between  them. 

She  dreaded  returning  to  a  place  filled  with  such 
sad  memories. 

Mrs.  Madison,  who  continued  in  the  same  delicate 
state  of  health,  received  Mr.  Johnson  several  times 
and  was  much  impressed  by  his  gentlemanly  bearing. 
Mrs.  Ashleigh  used  to  talk,  in  his  absence,  of  her 
brother's  bright  prospects  in  his  profession,  of  the  high 
social  position  of  the  family  and  of  his  comfortable 
fortune. 

"Ah,  Mrs.  Madison  !"  she  would  say,  in  closing,  "if 
dear  John  only  had  a  good  wife  to  share  his  home  I 
should  be  quite  content.  He  could  almost  take  his 
choice  of  the  marriageable  girls  in  New  York's  wealthi- 
est families,  but  he  will  never  marry  unless  his  heart 
and  hand  go  together." 

Mr.  Johnson  would  talk  to  Mrs.  Madison  as  much 
as  he  talked  to  anybody.  He  used  to  second  all  his 
lister  said,  which  did  quite  as  well  as  if  he  had  ad- 
vanced the  ideas  himself. 

"I  have  been  telling  Mrs.  Madison,  John,"  Mrs. 
Ashleigh  would  say,  "  that  these  winters  are  too  severe 
for  her,  and  that  a  trip  to  the  Bermudas  or  Cuba 
would  be  of  vast  benefit.  She  feels  that  she  cannot 
afford  to  undertake  such  a  journey,  but  if  we  were  to 
go,  as  we  have  talked  of,  she  could  accompany  us  just 
as  well  as  not.  She  has  been  so  kind  to  me  since  1 
came  here  that  I  feel  under  peculiar  obligations." 


"  I'M  ns»T  torn  !"  16ft 

Then  Mr.  Johnson  would  murmur,  Cer-taialy, 
Esther ;  cer-tainly,"  and  Mrs.  Madison  would  say,  ia 
her  feeble  voice,  that  .he  proposition  was  very  kiad 
indeed,  but  that  she  could  not  think  of  accepting  so 
great  a  favor.  Then  Mrs.  Ashleigh  would  add,  "  Well, 
Mrs.  Madison,  we  hope  you  will  not  decide  to  refuse 
us,  until  you  think  it  over."  And  Mr.  Johnson  would 
echo,  "  Cer-tainly ;  she  must  think  it  over — think  it 
over  !" 

Late  in  January  the  physician  who  attended  Mis. 
Madison  had  a  serious  talk  with  Cora. 

"  I  can  do  nothing  more  for  your  mother,"  he  said. 
"  The  only  hope  for  her  is  a  change  of  climate.  It  is 
my  habit  to  speak  plainly  and  honestly.  A  southern 
trip  would  benefit  and  might  save  her — I  cannot  prom- 
ise the  latter — but  a  March  spent  in  this  latitude  is 
absolutely  dangerous." 

The  girl  was  being  hedged  in  by  a  series  of  circum- 
stances which  neither  she  nor  anyone  else  could  COB- 
trol.  Her  frail  craft  was  being  borne  rapidly  to  the 
edge  of  the  great  cataract. 

One  day  Mrs.  Ashleigh  came  to  the  point,  in  a  talk 
with  her  landlady. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Madison,  I  have  something  to  say 
to  you  that  will  doubtless  cause  you  great  surprise, 
but  ought  not,  on  reflection,  to  be  deemed  disagreeable. 
I  have  been  watching  my  brother  for  some  time  and  I 
am  sure  he  has  at  last  discovered  an  object  upon 
Which  his  affections  may  justly  be  placed." 

The  widow  said,  politely,  that  she  was  very  glad  to 
hear  it.  Mr.  Johnson,  she  was  sure,  was  a  gentleman 
whose  hand  any  lady  might  be  proud  to  accept 

"  I  knew  you  would  say  so,"  said  Mrs.  Ashleigh, 
much  gratified.  "  You  must  have  noticed  his  manner 


1M  -I'M  mr  •ourP 

yourself,  and  perha\*s  you  are  partially  prepared  for 
what  I  am  about  to  say.  You  can  gueu,  doubtless,  Ott 
whom  John's  hopes  are  centered." 

Mrs.  Madison  shook  her  head  wonderingly. 

*  Is  she — is  she  a  Cambridge  lady  ?" 

"She  is,"  said  Mrs.  Ashleigh,  "  and  the  best  and 
sweetest  ji  them  all.  Mrs.  Madison,  don't  let  me  agi- 
tate you.  It  is  your  dear  daughter,  Cora." 

The  widow  was  wholly  surprised  and  only  the  appli- 
cation of  the  ever-present  smelling-salts  prevented  her 
fainting. 

"  Cora  !"  she  gasped,  on  recovering.  "  Cora  !  Why, 
Mrs.  Ashleigh,  she  is  only  a  child  !" 

"She  is  nearly  twenty,"  replied  Mrs.  Ashleigh. 
"Three  years  older  than  I  was  when  I  entered  the 
married  state." 

Mrs.  Madison  had  a  look  of  genuine  pain  on  her 
pale  features. 

"  Oh,  I  could  never  spare  her  !"  she  said.  "  Cora 
is  now  my  sole  reliance." 

"  You  would  not  be  asked  to  spare  her,"  replied 
Mrs.  Ashleigh.  "  My  brother  would  consider  it  both  a 
duty  and  a  pleasure  to  receive  you  as  a  permanent 
member  of  his  family.  You  are  ill  and  unfitted  for 
the  cares  you  have  here.  Your  daughter  is  taxed 
beyond  her  strength.  You  need  a  change  of  scene  and 
of  climate — I  heard  your  physician  say  so  last  week.  If 
Cora  will  marry  my  brother  we  will  all  take  a  trip  to 
Bermuda,  returning  to  America  when  the  rough  spring 
winds  have  been  softened  by  the  warmth  of  summer. 
After  that  your  home  will  be  with  them,  either  at  New 
York  or  Newport,  according  to  the  season.  My 
brother's  wealth  will  be  ample  for  you  and  Jessie,  and 
you  will  never  want  for  anything." 


167 

The  prospect  was  indeed  alluring1,  but  the  widow 
held  out  for  a  long  time.  It  was  hard  to  think,  all  at 
once,  of  Cora  as  a  marriageable  possibility.  At  l&st 
she  was  induced  to  say  she  would  leave  it  to  the  girl 
to  decide. 

"  I  never  shall  ask  my  daughter  to  sacrifice  herself 
for  me,"  she  said,  tenderly.  "  If  she  wishes  to  marry 
Mr.  Johnson  of  her  own  free  will,  I  shall  not  refuse  my 
consent." 

While  this  talk  with  Mrs.  Madison  was  very  wisely 
entrusted  to  Mrs.  Ashleigh,  the  actual  proposal  must  of 
necessity  be  made  by  Mr.  Johnson  himself.  The  law- 
yer, who  had  an  extended  fame  as  an  advocate,  who 
could  tear  a  verdict  from  a  jury  by  sheer  eloquence, 
found  it  the  hardest  task  of  his  life  to  tell  that  slender 
girl  of  nineteen  that  he  loved  her.  Mrs.  Ashleigh 
arranged  to  leave  him  and  Cora  together  in  the  parlor 
one  evening,  by  stating  that  she  had  a  letter  which 
she  must  write  in  season  for  the  late  mail,  and  he 
nerved  himself  for  the  declaration. 

"  Miss  Madison,"  he  began,  "  I  have  something  of 
— of  importance — to  say  to — to  you." 

She  looked  interested,  but  evidently  had  no  idea 
to  what  his  words  would  lead. 

"I  am  older  than  you,"  he  continued,  slowly. 
"  con-siderabiy  older.  In  fact,  I  am  thirty-nine  yean 
of  age.  I  belong  to  a  family  of  which  I  may  well 
feel — proud.  My  grandfather  was  governor  of  his 
State  and — widely  known.  One  of  my  uncles  is  a 
bishop.  1  am  in  possession  of  a  good  law  practice 
(he  gained  courage  as  he  saw  her  perfect  equanimity) 
and  have  a  fortune  that  would  be  considered — by 
most  men — a  large  one." 

He  paused  a  moment  and  she  bowed  to  show  tho> 


166  "  I'M  WY  lornvr  P 

•he  was  attentive,  still  wondering  why  ne  confided 
these  things  to  her. 

"  My  position,"  he  proceeded,  "  seems  a  strong 
uce.  I  have  been  for  three  terms  in  the  Assembly 
&ad  can  go  to  the  Senate  when  I  please.  Congress 
will  be  open  to  me  after  a  few  years.  You  have  seen 
my  home.  You  have  seen  Me.  I  believe  no  lady 
could  esteem  it  less  than  an  honor  if  asked  to  be  my 
wife." 

Cora  bowed  again,  and  said  in  a  low  tone  that  she 
felt  sure  of  that. 

"  I  have  been  a  mam  of  close  attention  to  business," 
he  continued,  "and  have  never — until  recently — 
thought  of  being  in  love.  And  now  there  is  but  one 
woman  in  the  world  to  whom  I  would  offer  my  hand. 
Miss  Madison,  if  you  will  accept  it — " 

He  stopped,  for  the  girl  had  risen,  with  a  look  of 
the  blankest  dismay,  and  stood  clutching  the  back  of 
the  chair  she  had  lately  occupied,  in  great  agitation. 

"Me!"  she  cried.  "  IT*t  No!  there  is  some  mis. 
take!" 

"  None,"  he  replied,  considerably  astonished.  "  1 
ask  you  in  good  faith.  I  will  make  your  happiness 
ay  greatest  care  if  you  will  confide  it  to  me." 

"  Oh,  sir !"  cried  Cora,  "  I  am  very  sorry,  if  you 
rtally  mean  it !  You  are  very  kind — and  I  appreciate 
h — but  I  couldn't  think  of  it !  You  must  excuse  me  !" 

She  gave  him  a  low  curtsey,  and  left  the  room, 
leaving  behind  her  a  very  confused  and  disappointed 
foatleman. 


MAMMA*  DO  TOO  WHM  Ml  1O  MABXff  f        101 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 

"  MAMMA,   DO  YOU   WISH  MB   TO   MARRY P 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Claude  Wyllis  were  living  in  their 
apartments  at  the  Murray  Hill  Hotel  and  enjoying  the 
winter,  each  in  their  own  way.  That  is,  Claude  was 
enjoying  it,  for  it  took  a  very  big  cloud  indeed  to 
darken  his  sky  very  long  at  a  time.  But  Belle,  while 
she  did  all  she  could  to  pass  the  hours  pleasantly, 
missed  Cora  sadly.  The  bright,  handsome,  ingenuous 
girl  had  given  her  a  degree  of  pleasure  for  which  noth- 
i«g  else  seemed  to  compensate.  The  opera,  the 
theatre,  the  calls,  the  dances,  the  drives  and  the  shop- 
ping all  seemed  less  attractive  when  Cora  was  no 
longer  there  to  share  them.  Claude  and  his  wife  were 
by  no  means  inseparable  and  usually  went  their 
various  ways  in  mutual  content.  Since  the  experience 
of  his  wedding  night  and  the  next  morning  he  Iiad 
come  to  regard  Belle  as  a  woman  who  would  certainly 
outwit  him  in  any  fair  contest  and,  in  spite  of  his  ona 
attempt  to  humiliate  her,  he  did  not  ordinarily  delight 
in  doing  ugly  things  to  anybody. 

He  had  grown  to  like  Belle  extremely  well — more 
he  would  hardly  have  claimed.  She  was  stylish,  of 
fine  personal  appearance  and  usually  agreeable  to  him. 
She  did  not  annoy  him  with  unanswerable  questions 
when  he  came  home  at  daylight  or  forgot  to  come  at 
all.  Claude  Wyllis  could  never  have  endured  a 
devoted  wife— one  who  would  have  followed  him  to 
the  dooi  and  pined  while  he  was  absent.  That  was 


170        M  MAMMA,  DO   FOU  WISH  MI  TO  MAMST  !" 

rery  sweet  in  a  mistress  —  in  some  pretty  love  episode 
that  might  last  a  month  or  two  —  but  in  a  wife,  bosh  ! 

Belle  went  where  she  liked  and  he  did  the  same. 
Sometimes,  often  indeed,  they  went  together.  When 
they  did  not,  that  ever  convenient  excuse  of  "  business  H 
served  them  as  it  has  served  others.  The  long  purse 
which  he  held,  into  which  his  wife  was  privileged 
to  insert  her  fingers  to  the  full  length  of  her  beautiful 
arm,  smoothed  over  everything  for  both.  And  yet 
Belle  liked  him  very  much.  Had  a  case  arisen  where  his 
interests  demanded  a  heroic  movement  on  her  part  it 
is  more  than  probable  she  would  have  made  it.  She 
understood  him,  and  understanding  him,  she  contrived 
to  please  him  and  yet  maintain  at  the  same  time  almost 
the  independence  of  an  unmarried  woman. 

But  Belle  missed  Cora  and  she  had  perpetual  strug- 
gles with  her  pride  to  keep  from  posting  off  to  Cam- 
bridge and  making  friends  with  her  again  at  whatever 


Claude  used  to  come  home  from  his  own  visits  there 
and  tell  Belle  all  about  them.  She  knew  almost  as  soon 
as  he  about  Elton's  fiery  letter.  She  knew  the  student 
had  voluntarily  stopped  taking  Claude's  money  and 
was  struggling  with  poverty  at  the  German  capital. 
She  felt  a  touch  of  vindictiveness  and  a  certain  satisfac- 
tion at  this  humbling  of  the  man  who  had  once  taken 
it  upon  hiEself  to  arrange  her  private  affairs.  Still,  if 
Cora  loved  him,  she  was  sorry,  too.  The  girl  must  be 
in  great  distress,  with  all  her  troubles.  Claude's  pic- 
tures of  her  pa'e  and  emaciated  face  touched  Belle 
deeply.  But  everytime  he  would  ask  her  to  suggest 
something  the  contrary  spirit  would  rise  to  the  sur- 
face, 

"  Belte,'  h«i  scid  to  her,  over  and  orer,  "  ycu  could 


"MAMMA,  DO  rou  vra  MB  TO  KAxnP      171 

get  us  out  of  this,  if  you  would.  You  have  a  head  for 
calculating.  Give  me  an  idea." 

"There  is  no  idea,"  she  replied,  as  often,  "that  wffl 
enter  the  head  of  a  mule  in  a  state  of  rebellion,  and 
that's  just  what  this  Jack  Elton  is.  After  all  you'vt 
done  for  him,  to  think  he  would  fly  into  such  a  passion 
over  nothing !" 

"  Nothing  !"  cried  Claude.  "  Don't  call  that  kiss 
4  nothing  /'  Upon  my  soul,  I  would  give  half  I'm  worth 
for  a  dozen  of  them,  taken  at  leisure  !" 

Belle  laughed. 

"  You  are  not  likely  to  take  many  of  them  '  at  leis- 
ure,' if  your  first  experience  is  a  criterion.  What  I 
mean  is,  no  lover  has  any  business  to  be  so  confound- 
edly jealous.  A  nice  husband  he'll  make  !  What  doei 
the  fool  think  ?  Is  he  going  to  have  a  handsome  wife 
and  allow  nobody  to  look  at  her  !" 

Claude  took  a  chair  and  drew  her  on  to  his  knee. 

"  You're  a  trump  !"  he  said,  "  and  I'm  all  the  more 
anxious  to  enlist  your  services  in  this  righteous  cause. 
Silly  as  Jack  may  be,  it  is  none  the  less  true  that  if  I 
had  left  that  beehive  alone  nobody  would  have  been 
stung.  You  just  ought  to  see  Cora  once — why,  you'd 
hardly  know  her.  Come,  my  dearest,  help  me  out !" 

Belle  took  the  kisses  which  accompanied  the  request 
and  even  returned  them,  but  still  shook  her  head.  She 
was  not  as  sure  as  her  husband  that  she  could  invent 
a  way  out  of  the  morass  into  which  Elton  had  plunged. 

One  day,  however,  when  Claude  came  home,  h« 
found  his  wife  arrayed  in  traveling  garments. 

"  Whither  away  ?"  he  asked,  embracing  her. 

"  To  Cambridge,"  she  said,  in  her  ordinary  tone. 

"  You  are  going  to  Cora  at  last  ?"  he  cried,  joyfully, 
**  Belle,  let  me  kiss  you  again  !" 


ITS        *  «m"*^  DO  YOU  WMH  KB  W>   MABXT  I" 


When  she  could  extricate  herself  from  his  caresses 
she  said  : 

"  You  big  Newfoundland  dog  !  I  believe  I  shall 
have  to  have  my  hair  done  up  again.  Going  to  Cora  ! 
No,  indeed.  I'm  going  to  see  my  friend,  Mrs.  Madi 
son." 

He  would  not  abate  one  jot  of  his  gaiety. 

"  You  are  a  jewel  !"  he  kept  repeating.  "You  will 
bring  it  around  all  right.  If  you  do  I  will  register  a 
solemn  vow  to  eschew  buggies  —  with  pretty  girls  in 
them  —  forever  after.  How  long  shall  you  stay  there  ? 
May  I  come  and  see  you  ?" 

"My  stay  will  depend  on  my  reception,"  replied 
his  wife,  arranging  her  bonnet  at  the  mirror.  "  If  it  is 
prolonged,  of  course  you  will  make  some  ceremonious 
calls.  I  may  want  something." 

She  left  him  executing  a  fandango  in  the  middle  of 
the  floor,  though  for  what  purpose  she  was  at  a  loss  to 
conceive.  She  had  no  idea  she  would  accomplish  any- 
thing. 

Belle's  intention  as  to  her  conduct  at  the  Madison 
house  was  deliberately  fixed.  When  Cora  responded 
to  her  ring  in  person  she  was  momentarily  confused, 
but  managed  to  ask,  "  Can  I  see  Mrs.  Madison  ?"  with 
only  a  formal  bow  of  recognition. 

Cora  repressed  the  impulse  to  throw  herself  into 
Belle's  arms,  and  showed  her  into  the  parlor. 

"I  will  see  what  mamma  says,"  was  her  reply, 
"  She  is  worse  to-day,  but  I  think  she  will  try  to  see 
you." 

The  girl's  pale  face,  paler  than  she  had  imagined  it 
would  be  ;  the  repressed  welcome  that  showed  in  her 
luminous  eyes  ;  the  marks  of  a  grief  bome  alone  on 
those  young  shoulders  ;  and,  above  all,  the  empfa&sis 


"KAMMA,  BO  YOU  warn.  MX  ro  MAjurf      179 

•he  placed  on  the  word  "you" — were  too  much  for 
Belle.  As  Cora  turned  to  leave  the  room  she  sprang 
toward  her,  caught  her  to  her  breast  and  kissed  her 
madly. 

"  You  dear,  darling  child  !  How  could  I  have  used 
you  so!"  she  cried.  "Making  my  cruel  stipulatioM 
when  you  had  so  much  to  trouble  you  !  I  never  can 
forgive  myself  !" 

Cora  lay  for  a  moment  in  the  embrace,  which  was 
so  grateful  to  her,  and  then  drew  gently  away. 

"Belle,"  she  stammered,  "you  know  how  I  love 
you  ;  you  know  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you  ;  you  also 
know  why  we  separated." 

The  astonished  woman  could  hardly  believe  her 
ears. 

"  It  was  because  I  said  I  could  not  bear  to  be  with 
you  while  you  mistrusted  me.  You  are  in  great  grief 
and  I  have  thrown  my  pride  to  the  winds  in  «rder,  il 
possible,  to  be  of  use  to  you.  Do  you  repulse  me  V 

Cora  leaned  for  support  against  the  door,  the  han- 
dle of  which  she  had  grasped. 

"  It  is  so  hard  to  answer  you,  Belle." ' 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  mistrust  me  still?  Sit 
down  here  for  one  moment — I  shall  not  harm  you  in 
that  little  time — and  let  us  understand  each  other." 

Cora  took  a  chair,  as  requested.  She  was  weak 
enough  to  make  it  almost  necessary.  The  sight  of  her 
former  friend,  and  the  demand  she  made,  nearly  took 
away  the  little  strength  she  had. 

"  There  is  not  much  to  say,"  she  faltered.  "  Mamma 
will  be  glad  to  see  you,  if  she  is  able ;  and  I  think  she 
is.  though  you  will  see  she  has  failed  fast" 

She  paused  for  breath,  and  Belle  felt  the  most  in- 
tense sympathy  for  her. 


174        "  MAMMA,   90  TOT  WH»  MZ  TO  MAMVTf 

"  Mr.  Elton  was  the  one  who  asked  you  not  to 
date  with  me,"  she  said,  to  divert  the  girl's  mind  from 
her  mother's  condition.  "When  did  you  last  A«u 
from  him  ?" 

"Many  weeks  ago,"  replied  Cora,  sadly. 

"You  have  written  to  him  since  ?" 

"  Twice." 

Belle  leaned   toward  her  and  spoke  impressively : 

"  Do  you  throw  over  a  friend  who  is  ready  to  sac- 
rifice anything  for  your  happiness  at  the  behest  of  one 
who  thus  co4dly  deserts  you  ?  Oh,  Cora  !" 

The  girl  felt  a  sharp  thrill  of  pain. 

"  I  do  not  blame  Jack,"  she  said.  "  If  I  had  not 
written  him  about  Mr.  Wyllis ;  if  I  had  cheerfully 
complied,  when  he  asked  me  to— to  give  up  you — all 
would  have  been  well.  My  foolish  obstinacy  has 
wrought  his  ruin." 

Belle  reflected  a  moment. 

"What  do  you  think  he  will  do?"  she  asked. 

"Mr.  Wyllis  told  me  that  you  said,  'Let  him 
starve  !' " 

Cora's  reproachful  eyes  fixed  themselves  on  Belle's 
as  she  uttered  the  words. 

"  You  never  supposed  I  meant  it !"  said  Belle. 
u  Claude  and  I  have  puzzled  our  brains  how  to  make 
him  accept  money,  but  we  have  hit  on  no  plan.  There 
never  was  a  case  like  it.  He  can  draw  all  he  likes,  by 
merely  going  to  the  bank  and  getting  it,  but  ii^  ^ron't. 
Claude  has  had  him  interviewed  by  one  of  the  bank'i 
correspondents  and  it  did  no  good.  I  think  he  will  go 
there  yet,  himself,  at  whatever  risk,  and  see  him  in 
person  You  think  we  are  not  friendly  to  you,  child  I 
Why,  nothing  ever  gave  us  half  the  anxiety  that  your 
case  has  done  !" 


DO   TOU   WUH   ME  TO   MABIT  f         171 

Cora's  lip  trembled  slightly. 

"You  are  very  kind,  both  of  you,"  she  said. 
M  Believe  me,  I  appreciate  it,  and  it  makes  what  I  have 
to  say  the  harder.  1  un  nearly  friendless,  Belle. 
Jack  will  never  return  to  me  again;  of  that  I  fed 
certain.  Mamma  is  going  rapidly.  Soon  there  will 
be  only  Jessie.  I  shall  have  to  earn  my  living  as  best 
1  may,  with  my  little  sister  to  care  for.  Only  one 
thing  of  value  will  be  left  to  me — my  reputation." 

Belle  looked  pityingly  at  the  girl  as  she  slowly 
enunciated  the  final  words. 

"  And  you  think  contact  with  me  would  jeopardize 
it?" 

"  You — you  are  unable  to  explain — " 

"I  soon  shall  be,"  replied  Belle,  "to  even  your 
satisfaction.  I  must  be  content  to  wait.  In  die  mean- 
time I  certainly  can  do  something  for  your  mother, 
whom  I  love  very  dearly,  and  who  has  no  such  harrow- 
ing suspicions.  If  you  will  see  her  and  prepare  her 
for  my  visit,  I  will  wait  here  for  you." 

The  girl  left  the  room.  Mrs.  Wyllis  rose  and  paced 
it  slowly  for  several  minutes,  with  her  eyes  on  the 
carpet.  She  was  in  a  deep  study  when  the  door 
opened  and  Mrs.  Ashleigh  looked  in.  The  recognition 
and  surprise  were  mutual 

"  Why,  how  came  you  here  ?"  was  on  the  lips  o< 
both  a*  once. 

"  I  have  been  boarding  here  for  a  couple  of  months," 
•aid  Mrs,  Ashleigh,  "  while  visiting  friends  in  the 
vicinity,  but  I  go  to-day.  In  fact,  all  of  my  belongings, 
except  hand-luggage,  have  already  gone,  and  I  wan 
looking  for  Miss  Madison  to  settle  the  bill." 

"  1  came  especially  to  see  her  mother/    said  Mrs 


176        "  MAMMA,  DO  YOU  WISH  MX  TO  MABKT  P' 

Wy His,  "  who,  I  learn,  is  very  low.    Cora  is  now  pro 
paring  her  for  my  call." 

The  two  ladies    lamnched    into    a    brief    conver- 
sation  upon  society  matters,  returning  again  to  the 
Madison  family.      Then   Mrs.   Ashleigh   grew  confi 
dential. 

"  You  know  my  brother  John  is  one  of  the  most 
obstinate  of  men.  If  he  sets  his  mind  on  anything  he 
must  have  it,  if  it  is  possible  to  obtain.  I  long  ago 
ceased  to  oppose  him  in  any  wish,  no  matter  how  little 
I  agreed  with  his  ideas.  Well,  after  thirty-nine  years 
of  single  life,  after  attaining  what  we  thought  was 
confirmed  bachelorhood,  he  fell  in  love,  desperately ; 
and  with  whom,  do  you  suppose  ?" 

Mrs.  Wyllis  said  she  couldn't  guess. 

"  Why,  with  this  little  Miss  Madison  here,  that  he 
and  *  first  met  at  your  hotel !" 

Mrs.  Wyllis  was  quite  unable  to  conceal  her  aston- 
ishment. 

"With  Cora!" 

"  Yes,  wfch  Cora,"  said  Mrs.  Ashleigh.  "  The  other 
day  he  made  her  a  formal  proposal  in  this  room— 
and — she  refused  him  !" 

Mrs.  Wylhs's  look  of  surprise  grew  deeper. 

"  Refused — my — brother  !"  continued  Mrs.  Ashleigh, 
Impressively.  "  Refused  John  S.  Johnson,  whom  half 
the  heiresses  of  New  York  would  jump  at  !  Did 
anybody  ever  hear  the  like  ?" 

Mrs.  Wyllis  doubted  if  anybody  ever  d'd. 

"Of  course  it  is  unpleasant  for  me  to  remain  heit 
after  this,"  continued  Mrs.  Ashleigh.  "  I  have  paid  a 
good  sum  for  my  rooms,  and  since  I  brought  my  cook 
I  have  borne  all  the  table  expenses  of  the  household 
John  would  have  stopped  at  nothing.  I  told  Mrs, 


"  MAMMA,   DO   YOU    WESM  Ml  TO  MAKBY  F         177 

Madison  he  would  take  her  and  Jessie  under  his 
charge,  and  that  she  should  go  to  Bermuda  with  her 
daughter  as  soon  as  the  wedding  was  over.  The  lady 
said  she  would  leave  it  entirely  to  Cora.  I  can  see  aow 
that  the  girl's  decision  is  a  disappointment  to  her.  It 
will  be  hard  for  her  to  die  and  leave  her  children  so 
tntirely  unprovided  for  and  helpless." 

Cora  came  at  this  juncture  to  say  that  her  mother 
was  ready  to  see  Mrs.  Wyllis  and,  when  that  lady  had 
left  the  room,  took  the  money  which  Mrs.  Ashleigh 
handed  to  her.  If  she  could  have  done  so,  she  would 
have  refused  it,  but  the  necessities  of  the  poor  compel 
the  relinquishment  of  even  the  luxury  of  pride.  It  was 
evident  to  the  girl  that  Mrs.  Ashleigh's  entire  visit 
to  the  house  had  been  made  on  account  of  her 
brother's  design,  and  every  dollar  she  paid  seemed  in 
a  sense  to  add  to  Cora's  humiliation. 

"  That  is  the  amount  remaining  due,  I  think,"  said 
Mrs.  Ashleigh,  «•  sixty-two  dollars  and  a-half.  I  still 
feel  that  there  is  an  unsettled  obligation  to  your 
family,  but  it  could  not  be  liquidated  in  money.  I 
shall  remember  you  all  with  the  greatest  gratitude." 

Mrs.  Ashleigh  paused  to  see  whether  Cora  had  aay- 
thing  to  say  to  this,  but  the  girl  remained  silent. 

"  My  brother  wishes  me  to  say  just  one  thing  more, 
to  you  personally.  He  esteems  you  quite  as  highly  as 
be  did  before  you  felt  it  your  duty  to  give  him  a  nega- 
tive answer  to  his  proposal  of  marriage.  His  love  is 
not  changed  by  your  reception  of  it,  and  it  will  not 
Change.  If  he  does  not  marry  you  he  will  lead  a  single 
life  He  will  be  glad,  whenever  possible,  to  rerder  you 
any  service  in  his  power,  without  expecting  you  to 
feel  that  its  acceptance  places  you  under  any  obliga- 
tion whatever ;  and,  if  circumstances  should  rase 


178        K  MAMMA,  DO  TOU  WISH  MX  TO  MABKT  f» 

which  change  your  decision,  you  will  find  him  tfea 
same  devoted  aspirant  for  your  hand  that  he  wai 
when  he  addressed  you." 

Cora  could  not  help  being  affected. 

"  You  and  Mr.  Johnson  are  both  very  kind,"  sh« 
said.  "  Everybody  is  very  kind  to  me — much  kinder, 
f  am  sure,  than  I  deserve." 

Mrs.  Ashleigh  rose  to  depart. 

"Can  you  say  nothing  that  will  comfort  my 
brother  ?"  she  asked,  as  she  pressed  the  girl's  hand. 

"  Only,"  said  Cora,  gently,  "  that  I  esteem  him 
most  highly  and  hope  he  may  soon  forget  me." 

"  If  you  are  in  want,  at  any  time — as  you  soon  may 
be — you  will  call  upon  us  ?" 

Cora  hesitated. 

"  I  will  remember  your  offer,"  she  replied,  eva- 
sively. 

Belle  established  herself  in  the  rooms  that  Mrs. 
Ashleigh  had  vacated. 

"  You  can't  help  yourself,"  she  said,  pleasantly,  to 
Cora,  as  she  announced  her  intention.  "  I  have  hired 
the  rooms  of  your  mother,  who  is  still  mistress  of  the 
mansion,  though  God  knows  how  long  she  will  be  if 
she  persists  in  refusing  offers  to  take  her  to  a  suitable 
climate.  I  will  say  as  little  to  you  as  possible,  but  your 
mother  is  a  dear  friend,  for  whom  I  must  do  all  I 


Imperceptibly  Mrs.  Madison  came  to  rely  on  Mr«. 
Wyllis  and  to  place  herself  almost  entirely  in  her 
hands.  A  woman  came  on  from  New  York  under  the 
pretext  of  acting  as  Belle's  maid,  who  was  really  a 
trained  nurse  from  one  of  the  hospitals,  and  spent 
most  of  her  time  in  the  sick  room.  Delicacies,  which 
the  widow's  slender  means  would  net  have  allowed, 


DO  TOU  WISH  MX  TO  MAXBT  f        179 

were  procured  ostensibly  for  Belle  and  conveyed  i» 
portions  to  the  chamber.  The  burden  of  care  w*i 
lifted  from  Cora,  who  experienced  a  pained  gratitude 
at  what  she  felt  she  ought  not  to  accept  and  yet  could 
not  refuse. 

Claude  came  to  Boston  and  put  up  at  Young's 
again,  driving  out  every  day  to  see  Belle,  but  never 
making  long  calls.  It  was  a  curious  state  of  affairs — 
the  Wyllises  devoting  themselves  to  Cora's  service,  and 
the  girl  shrinking  from  them  through  her  sense  of 
duty  to  her  absent  lover  and  herself. 

Mrs.  Madison  spoke  to  Belle  of  Mr.  Johnson's  offer 
and  Cora's  refusal.  She  dwelt  upon  the  matter  often 
in  their  conversations.  She  told  how  kind  Mrs.  Ash- 
leigh  had  been  and  what  Mr.  Johnson  had  offered  to 
do  for  the  entire  family. 

"  If  Cora  could  have  thought  differently,"  she  said, 
in  one  of  these  talks,  "  it  would  have  been  pleasant  for 
us  all.  She  could  have  had  a  lovely  home,  a  good 
husband,  a  sure  settlement  in  life — and  I  could  have 
died  happier." 

Cora  had  entered  the  room  noiselessly  and  heard 
these  words.  She  was  struck  with  contrition  as  she 
realized  how  disappointed  was  the  tone  of  the  patient 
sufferer  she  loved  so  well. 

"  Mamma,"  she  said,  going  to  the  bedside  and 
looking  tenderly  at  her  mother,  "  do  you  wish  me  to 
marry  Mr.  Johnson  ?" 

The  invalid  raised  her  eyes  to  the  pale  face,  ,. 

"  I  wish  you  to  be  happy,  Cora.  No  one  will  ever 
wish  you  more  happiness  than  the  mother  who  has 
passed  the  point  where  she  can  do  anything  to  aid 
you/ 


180      "  HJLMM A,  DO  TOU  WMH  ra  TO  MABT  F 


Cora  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  bed  and 
one  of  the  thin  hands  between  her  own. 

"  No  mother  could  be  better  than  you  have  been," 
•he  said,  earnestly,  "  and  we  shall  keep  you  with  us  a 
Jong  time  yet.  The  least  your  children  can  do  is  t» 
heed  your  every  wish.  If  you  desire  me  to  marry  Mr. 
Johnson,  I  will  write  to  him  to-day." 

The  sick  woman  seemed  pleased,  but  she  replied  : 

"I  cannot  decide  for  you,  Cora.  If  you  should 
come  to  me  and  say  you  had  changed  your  mind  it 
would  make  me  glad  to  hear  it,  but  you  must  decide 
for  yourself.  It  is  a  most  important  step.  Mr.  John- 
son, I  learn,  is  an  excellent  man.  He  has  a  good  prop- 
erty and  reputation  His  Private  Character  is  unim- 
peached." 

She  paused  a  moment  and  then  added  as  before, 
"  But  you  must  decide." 

For  several  days  Cora  walked  the  house  like  a  «-est- 
less  ghost.  Frequently  she  returned  to  her  room  and 
wept  for  hours.  She  was  mourning  for  the  absent 
lover,  whom  she  had  given  up  all  hopes  of  ever  seeing. 
She  was  mourning  for  the  coming  bridegroom,  whose 
steps  she  awaited  with  trepidation.  Finally  she  made 
up  her  mind.  She  wrote  a  brief  letter  to  Miss  Ash- 
leigh,  requesting  her  to  ask  Mr.  Johnson  to  call  the 
next  time  he  happened  to  visit  Cambridge.  Whea 
this  letter  was  deposited  in  the  post-office,  she  felt  like 
a  ship  whose  anchor  has  been  weighed  and  its  sails 
spread.  Nothing  could  save  her  now. 

As  soon  as  the  express  train  could  take  the  lawyer 
to  Boston  he  was  there,  and  an  hour  later  his  carriage 
stopped  at  the  Madison  gate.  A  telegrsm  had  pre- 
ceded him,  and  Cora,  using  every  effort  to  preserve 
ber  calmness,  was  ready  to  meet  Hm.  He  looked  rery 


DO  YOU   WISH  MX  TO  MJLJQTP         111 

oauious  as  he  accompanied  her  to  the  parlor  and  took 
the  seat  offered  him. 

**  I  came  in  response  to  your  brief  letter  to  my  si*- 
ter,"  he  said.  "  May  I  hope  that  you  have  changed 
your  decision — that  you  will  make  me  the  happiMt  of 


She  turned  a  set  face  toward  him. 

"Do  not  let  me  deceive  you,"  she  said.  "My 
mother  is  dying  ;  slowly,  very  slowly,  I  hope,  but  yet 
dying.  No  one  can  tell  how  much  I  wish  to  do  every- 
thing according  to  her  desires.  She  has  intimated 
that  my  marriage — my  settlement  in  life — would 
gratify  her.  I  do  not  pretend  to  return  your  love. 
My  heart  has  been  in  the  keeping  of  another,  who  is 
now  far  from  here,  and  whom — I  shall  probably — never 
— see  again.  There  is  nothing  in  me  worthy  of  your 
choice.  If  you  wish  me  as  I  am,  I  will  accept  you." 

Each  of  her  sentences  showed  their  effect  in  his 
countenance,  as  in  a  mirror,  but  at  the  last  words  he 
forgot  all  the  rest  and,  coming  to  her  side,  he  put  his 
arm  about  her. 

"  When  may  I  call  you  wholly  mine  ?"  he  cried. 

"  As  soon  as  possible,"  she  said,  rigid  as  marble  in 
his  embrace.  "  There  is  yet  time  to  take  my  mother 
to  Bermuda  before  the  summer,  and  the  trip  may  pro- 
long for  a  few  days  that  life  so  dear  to  me.  I  desire 
to  formal  wed  ding,  nothing  but  the  simplest  ceremony 
here  in  this  house.  My  mother's  condition  woul«J 
make  anything  else  inappropriate," 

He  said  hurriedly  that  everything  should  oe  as  she 
would  have  it  and  suggested  that  Mrs.  Ashleigh  had 
best  come  at  once  to  assist  her  in  making  arrange- 
ments.  This  she  agreed  to.  He  then  asked  if  h« 
might  see  Mrs.  Madison  and  thank  her  for  the  treasure 


181  M  TUX  Tl  TUM-I-TTj   TDM   TB  TDM  P1 

she  was  to  convey  into  his  keeping,  but  Cora  thought 

the  excitement  might  be  injurious,  until  she  had  first 
prepared  her  mother  for  the  news.  After  a  little 
further  conversation  Mr.  Johnson  withdrew,  in  a  much 
more  contented  state  of  mind  than  when  he  last  left 
that  house. 

Through  the  partially  opened  parlor  window  a 
little  eavesdropper  had  heard  enough  to  inform  her 
of  what  was  going  on.  Miss  Jessie,  who  had  acci- 
dently  taken  a  seat  there,  in  an  interval  of  other 
amusements,  rose  just  before  Mr.  Johnson  did,  slipped 
around  to  the  back  door,  and  subsequently  watched 
him  as  he  left,  from  an  upper  chamber.  She  was  in  a 
rage.  Cora  promising  that  man  to  marry  him,  when 
Jack  was  away  !  Her  Jack,  her  big  brother,  who  was 
worth  all  the  Johnsons  in  the  world  !  She  stamped 
her  foot  in  fury.  Should  she  tell  Cora  what  she  had 
heard  ?  Not  she  !  But  she  would  tell  Jack  all  about 
it  !  He  should  know  what  was  going  on  in  his 
absence. 

"  I'm  only  thirteen,  but  I'm  a  match  for  them  !" 
she  said,  defiantly,  as  she  took  down  paper  and  began 
to  write. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

"TUM  TE  TXTM-I-TY,    TUM  TK  TUM  P 

Belle  Wyllis  watched  the  preparations  for  Con 
Madison's  marriage  with  deep  interest.  She  fully  be- 
lieved that  nothing  more  opportune  than  Mr.  John* 
son's  proposal  could  have  occurred.  He  b&o  every- 


"TUM  T«   TUM-I-TT,   TCH  TIB  TU*  P"  Iff 

thing  that  should  make  a  wife  happy,  from  her  stand- 
point, while  Jack  Elton  had  nothing.  Now  that  the 
young  student  had  abandoned  both  his  career  and  his 
sweetheart,  the  prospect  that  opened  before  Cora 
leemed  to  her  worldly  friend  a  very  bright  one. 

One  thing  only  trcubied  her.  She  was  not  sure 
that  Claude  would  accept  her  view  of  the  situation. 
He  had  a  peculiar  way  of  "kicking  over  the  traces," 
on  the  very  worst  part  of  the  road.  He  liked  Elton. 
The  latter's  obstinate  refusal  to  continue  to  take  his 
money  had  occasioned  him  great  annoyance.  The 
thought  of  the  student  penflless  in  a  foreign  land  had 
caused  him  much  disquietude.  Until  Jack  had  more 
formally  renounced  his  claim  to  Cora,  Belle  feared 
that  Claude  would  endeavor  to  have  the  girl's  marriage 
with  another  delayed.  While  he  was  usually  the 
most  obedient  and  tractable  of  husbands,  Belle  knew 
from  experience  that  when  he  did  take  it  into  his  head 
to  be  mulish  he  was  uncontrollable. 

This  difficulty,  however,  was  met  in  a  most  unex- 
pected way.  Before  her  husband  called  again,  Belle 
received  a  hastily  penned  note  from  him  stating  that 
he  was  to  sail  immediately  for  Germany,  to  carry 
out  his  oft-expressed  intention  of  personally  in- 
vestigating Elton's  condition.  It  was  very  lucky, 
Belle  thought,  that  he  had  made  this  resolve,  as  be- 
foie  he  could  return  Cora  would  DC  bound  fast  in  the 
bonds  of  wedlock.  She  kept  her  own  counsel,  saying 
little,  but  thinking  a  good  deal.  When  any  one  asked 
about  Mr.  Wyllis,  she  said  he  had  been  summoned 
away  for  a  month  or  two  "on  business,"  and  skillfully 
avoided  giving  a  more  definite  answer. 

Those  priestesses  of  Hymen,  ycleped  d-essmakers 
and  milliners,  flocked  into  the  house  tc  prepare  the 


154  "  TDM  TB   TUH-I-TY,    TUM   TB   TDM  I" 

lamb  for  the  sacrifice  Cora  patiently  bore  the  inflic- 
tion of  measurements  and  fittings,  but  left  to  Belle  a" 
questions  of  taste  and  quality  of  materials.  The  girl 
was  in  a  sort  of  daze,  from  which  she  never  expected 
to  awake.  The  consciousness  of  duty  nerved  her  t<? 
bear  all.  Her  mother's  face  brightened  so  much 
oftener  than  of  old,  that  she  felt  hourly  repaid.  Mrs. 
Madison  seemed  better  after  the  marriage  was  decided 
upon,  and  became  the  most  interested  spectator  of  tb« 
rapidly  fashioning  trousseau.  Cora  was  to  be  a  rich 
mam's  wife,  a  grand  lady  who  would  never  feel  the 
griping  hand  of  poverty.  To  be  sure  she  was  looking 
pale,  but  she  did  that  long  before  the  coming  of  the 
Ashleighs  and  Johnsons.  She  was  absent-minded  aiic 
low-spirited,  but  brides  were  often  so.  Mrs.  Madison 
remembered  that  she  herself  cried  an  hour  on  th» 
morning  of  her  wedding  day. 

The  irreconcilable  fact?or  in  the  case  was  Miss  Jes- 
sie. Nothing  would  induce  her  to  look  at  "Cora's 
pretty  things,"  or  join  in  any  praise  of  the  prospective 
bridegroom.  She  avoided  Mrs.  Ashleigh,  who  was 
now  a  daily  visitor  at  the  house.  She  refused  to  lis- 
ten even  to  Belle,  who  had  been  a  favorite  of  hers. 
Mr.  Johnson  encountered  her  on  one  occasion  in  the 
parlor,  and  in  the  course  of  a  brief  conversation  cama 
off  much  the  worse. 

"  Ah  !"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  pleasant  voice,  "  this  is 
Miss  Jessie,  I  suppose  ?" 

"Yes!"  snapped  the  child.  "And  Miss  Jessie 
riocsn't  like  you,  either — DO,  aor  never  will!  Yom 
needn't  try  to  make  her  !" 

He  was  at  first  amused,  Lhough  considerably  sur- 
prised at  the  way  she  received  him. 

"  Why  don't  you  like  me  ?"  he  queried. 


*TUM  Tl  TDM-I-TT,    TUX  TS  TDM  1"  III 

"  Because  you  are  trying  to  marry  my  sister !  You 
had  no  business  to  come  here  at  all  !  Nobody  asked 
you  !  We  were  all  right  without  you,  and  I  wish  you 
would  go  away  as  quick  as  you  can." 

*  Why,  my  little  dear — "  he  began. 

"  No  ;  I  am  not  your  little  dear  !"  she  interrupted, 
viciously.  "  I  am  nobody's  little  dear  but  Jack's, 
whom  Cora  promised  to  marry  long  before  she  evei 
saw  you  or  ever  expected  to." 

"  But,"  said  Mr.  Johnson,  argumentatively,  "  Jack 
has  gone  away  and  will  not  return.  He's  many  miles 
over  the  sea,  and  Cora  does  quite  right  in  forgetting  a 
promise  which  he  also  has  forgotten." 

The  child  drew  herself  up  stiffly. 

"  Don't  think  Jack  has  forgotten !"  she  said. 
"  Something  has  happened  to  keep  him  from  writing, 
He'll  come  back,  and  if  he  finds  you've  taken  Cora — 
why — you  just  look  out !  Jack's  bigger  than  you 
and  he'll  come  and  take  her  away !  See  if  he 
doesn't !" 

He  began  another  sentence  when  she  burst  out : 

"  I  won't  talk  to  you !  I  don't  like  you  !  I  ha.U 
you  !  I  wish  you  would  go  off  and  never  let  us  see 
you  again  !" 

Then  she  escaped  by  the  door,  and  ran  down  into 
the  garden,  and  he  saw  her  no  more  that  day. 

Mr.  Johnson  mentioned  to  Mrs.  Wyllis  his  reasons 
for  thinking  he  was  not  wholly  agreeable  to  Cora's 
sister. 

"  The  dear,  loyal  little  creature '"  cried  Belle. 
"She  is  so  attached  to  Mr.  Elton.  He  came  here 
nearly  four  years  ago  and  used  to  do  everything  for 
her.  As  she  had  no  real  brother  she  adopted  him,  and 
her  heart  has  been  quite  broktn  since  his  departure.  ' 


ISC  «  TO*  Tl  TDM-I-TT,  TUM  Tl  TOM  I" 

«  Does— docs  Miss  Cora-*till  fed—" 

"  Undoubtedly,"  asserted  Belle.  "  It  would  be  kU« 
to  deny  it.  He  was  the  first  possessor  of  her  girlish 
heart.  But  Cora  is  of  true  metal.  She  does  what  sh« 
believes  right.  If  I  were  you,  however."  she  added, 
pointedly,  "  I  would  not  unnecessarily  delay  the  cere- 
mony. Accidents  up  to  that  point  would  be  possible 
and  very  awkward  for  all  concerned." 

Mr.  Johnson  took  the  hint  and  dropped  a  word  in 
the  ear  of  Mrs.  Ashleigh.  The  preparations  were 
hastened  slightly  and  the  day  set  a  little  nearer  than 
was  first  intended.  It  was  arranged  that  the  wedded 
pair  should  take  a  run  on  to  New  York  for  three  or 
four  days  and  then  return  for  Mrs.  Madison,  with 
whom  they  were  to  take  the  Bermuda  boat.  Arriving 
at  the  island,  Mr.  Johnson  expected  to  pass  a  few  days 
with  them  and  then  go  back  to  the  city,  where  his  law 
business  was  pressing,  returning  again  later.  He  de- 
termined to  leave  nothing  undone  that  would  add  to 
the  happiness  of  his  prospective  bride,  and  the  few 
suggestions  she  made  were  at  once  incorporated  in  his 
plans.  They  were  to  be  united  by  a  Cambridge 
clergyman,  at  Mrs.  Madison's  house,  in  the  evening, 
with  absolutely  no  one  but  the  family,  Mrs.  Ashleigh 
and  Mrs.  Wyllis  present.  At  eleven  o'clock  they  were 
to  leave  Boston  by  the  Shore  Line  in  a  compartment 
car. 

On  the  day  set  for  the  marriage  Jessie  became 
desperate.  Her  letter  to  Elton  had  brought  no  reply. 
All  she  had  tried  to  do  for  him  and  Cora  seemed  futila. 
Her  mother  sent  for  her  and  besought  her  to  be  "  a 
good  girl "  and  get  ready  to  see  her  sister  wedded. 
All  that  could  be  said  to  her  was  in  vain.  Entreaties, 
commands,  even  tears  made  no  impression. 


-  TUM  TB  TITM-I-TT,    TUM  T»  TUM  I"  187 

"  I  will  never  Bee  Cora  marry  that  hateful  thing  !" 
•he  declared,  with  an  ugly  scowl.  "  I  will  never  call 
him  my  brother  !  I  hate  him  !  I  hate  him  !  I  HAT* 
him  !" 

Late  in  the  afternoon  she  was  idling  along  the  street 
in  front  of  the  house,  hoping  against  hope  to  the  last, 
when  a  telegraph  messenger  boy  came  up. 

"  Does  Miss  Jessie  Madison  live  here  ?"  he  asked, 
holding  out  a  message. 

"  Yes,  it's  for  me  !"  she  cried,  catching  at  it.  "  Oh  ! 
let  me  read  it  quickly  !" 

"Hold  on  !"  said  the  youth.  "You  must  sign  the 
book."  But  she  had  torn  open  the  envelope  and 
devoured  the  words  : 

"  I  will  be  at  your  house  at  eight  to-night. 

"JACK." 

The  message  was  dated  at  New  York  City. 

Jsssie  could  hardly  sign  the  book,  in  her  impatience, 
i)ut  at  last  she  succeeded.  Then  she  crushed  the  mes- 
sage in  her  pocket  and  flew  off  to  her  room,  where  she 
read  it  again  and  again,  to  make  sure  there  was  no  mis- 
take. 

"  He'll  come  to-night !  He'll  come  to-night !"  she 
laag,  in  a  hushed  voice,  to  herself.  u  He'll  stop  this 
ocean  old  wedding  and  take  Cora  away  aad  marry  her » 
Oh,  you  old  Johnson  !" — apostrophizing  the  figure  of 
;hai  gentleman,  wherever  he  might  happen  to  be— 
"  you'll  find  out !  Jack  '11  be  here,  aad  if  you  say  a 
word  he'll—" 

She  illustrated  her  idea  by  doubling  up  her  diminu- 
tive fist  and  shaking  it  savagely. 

Soon  »f*er  this  Mrs.  Wyllis  was  struck  with  surprise 


188  "TUX  TX  TUM-I-TT,   TUM  TX  TUM  !" 

to  hear  the  child  singing  gaily  on  the  lawn  in  the 
of  the  house.    She  went  out  to  see  her. 

"  Turn  te  tum-i-ty,  turn  te  turn  !"  sang  Jessie. 

"  You  are  feeling  better,"  said  Mrs.  WyJis,  pleas  = 
aatly. 

"  Oh,  yes  !    Tuu11  te  tum-i-ty,  turn  te  turn  !" 

"  Now  you'll  be  a  good  girl  and  let  me  dress  yoo 
up  for  the  wedding,  won't  you  ?" 

"  I'd  just  as  lief.     Turn  te  tum-i-ty,  turn  te  turn  !" 

Though  much  puzzled  at  the  sudden  transition, 
Belle  took  advantage  of  it  and  presently  had  Jessie 
arrayed  in  suitable  garments  for  the  important  occa- 
sion so  near  at  hand.  When  dressed,  the  child  went 
down,  agreeable  to  request,  to  see  her  mother,  who 
congratulated  her  on  her  improved  appearance.  Com- 
ing afterwards  through  the  hall  she  met  Cora  and 
stopped  her  "  turn  te  tum-i-ty,  turn  te  turn,"  to  go  up 
and  kiss  her  surprised  sister. 

Cora  pressed  the  little  figure  to  her  heart  and,  as 
they  strolled  out  of  doors,  she  dropped  a  tear  on  the 
dark  curls. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  hapr;-*  darling,"  she  said. 
"  It  grieved  mamma  to  hear  the  naughty  things  you 
said  to  Mr.  Johnson.  You  will  go  and  speak  nicely  to 
him  when  he  comes  to-night,  won't  you  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Jessie,  promptly.  "  Turn  te  tum-i-ty, 
turn  te  turn  !" 

"  You  must,"  said  Cora,  "  for  my  sake.  Will  you 
try?" 

All  that  Jessie  would  do  at  first  was  to  look  very 
wise  and  hum  the  same  tune.  When  Cora  persisted, 
However,  she  grew  suddenly  grave. 

"  Y*u  know,  Cora,  I  shall  always  hate  him  ' 


"TUM  T*  TUM-I-TT,   TUM  T»  TDM  P  189 

can  I  say  xo  Jack  when  he  returns  ?  You  promised  to 
saarry  him.  Mr.  Wyllis  told  me." 

Cora  tried  to  discourage  her  and  the  tears  fell 
freely. 

"  S'posin'  Jack  should  come  to-night,  just  when  Ifer 
minister  is  here,"  suggested  Jessie,  cautious!,, 
"  Would  you  marry  that  old  Johnson  or  your  own  dear 
boy  ?  Wouldn't  you  say  to  the  minister,  *  This  is  the 
man — not  that  hateful  thing !'  I  guess  you  wou'.d, 
sister  !" 

Jessie  illustrated  her  words  with  plenty  of  panto- 
mime, but  Cora  heard  her  with  a  shudder. 

"  Oh,  I  hope  that  won't  happen  !"  she  said,  with  a 
sigh.  "  I  want  ta  get  married  and  away  to  Ber- 
muda as  soon  as  I  can.  Even  if  Jack  were  to  return 
now,  it  would  be  too  late,  and  we  should  all  feel  so 
Udly  !" 

The  little  sister  looked  up  surprised. 

"  Would  be  too  late  !"  she  echoed.  "  Do  you  think 
Jack  would  let  any  one  have  you  if  you  were  here  ?  I 
guess  nst!  He'd  take  you  in  his  arms,  like  a  Scottish 
knight  I  read  of,  and  bear  you  off  where  no  Johnsons 
would  ever  find  you  !  Don't  you  think  he  wouldn't ! 
Jack  would  know  you  were  unhappy  the  minute  he  saw 
you.  He  would  see  that  you  only  do  this  to  please 
mamma — for  you  do,  you  know  you  do— and  it's  a 
wicked,  cruel  shame  !" 

Cora's  tears  continued  to  fall,  as  she  gently  strove 
to  calm  her  impetuous  sister.  Jessie's  iadignatioB 
was  too  great  to  show  itself  in  that  manner. 

"  All  this  talk  is  useless,"  said  Cora,  after  a  time, 
"and  I  must  go  into  the  house  Jack  has  deserted 
me.  He  will  never  come  back.  I  am  domg  what  I 


190  "TDM  T*  TUM-I-TT.  run  T»  TOM!" 

think  is  right  and  you  must  not  make  it  harder  for  mt 
than  it  is  already." 

Jessie  would  make  no  promises.  She  learned  that 
the  ceremony  was  set  for  half  past  eight  o  clock  and 
felt  sure  Jack  would  arrive  in  time  to  stop  it.  In  a 
few  minutes  she  was  again  singing  her  new  song,  as 
the  flitted  in  and  out  of  the  house. 

"  Turn  te  tum-i-ty,  turn  te  turn  !" 

After  seven  she  could  not  be  found. 

"He  may  come  a  little  earlier,"  she  reasoned,  "and 
I  am  going  down  the  street  to  get  the  first  glimpse  ol 
him." 

Knowing  her  feelings  the  people  in  the  house  were 
not  surprised  at  her  absence  when  the  important  mo- 
ment came.  Indeed,  they  rather  felt  relieved  by  it,  as 
she  was  as  likely  as  not  to  give  vent  to  her  anger  at 
the  most  improper  time.  They  knew  she  could  not  be 
far  away  and  were  sure  she  would  come  in  by-and-by. 
The  clergyman,  a  slender  gentleman  of  scholarly  miea 
came  a  few  minutes  before  the  time  set  and  had  a  pri- 
vate talk  with  both  bride  and  groom.  He  was  a  con- 
scientious gentleman,  and  felt  it  his  duty  to  impress 
upon  each  the  importance  of  the  step  they  were 
taking.  Had  he  known  all  the  reader  does  in  relation 
to  the  betrothal,  he  might  have  declined  to  perform 
the  rite.  But  there  was  nothing  in  the  answers  of 
either  of  the  most  interested  parties  to  arouse  his 
»u»picions.  The  license,  which  Mr.  Johnson  had  pro- 
cured at  the  city  clerk's  office,  was  examined  and 
found  properly  made  out.  A  word  or  two  of  instruction 
wra»  given  in  order  to  prevent  any  hitch  in  th« 
ceremony. 

As  the  minutes  flew  by,  Jessie's  impatience  grew 
greater  The  clocks  in  several  steeples  rang  out  eigfhl 


A  WXDDDT0  BDHk  itt 

strokes,  louder,  it  seemed  to  her,  than  .hey  '.  .jb  ever 
rung  before.  Still  no  Jack  !  She  strained  fcer  eyes  to 
see  if  each  passer  was  the  one  waited  for  Twice  she 
thought  she  discerned  his  familiar  fact,  only  to  be 
disappointed. 

She  took  out  the  crumpled  message  and  read  it 
again  by  the  light  of  the  street  lamp.  Yes,  he  had 
said  eight  o  'clock.  It  was  far  past  that 

"  Why  doesn't  he  come  !  Why  doesn't  he  coaao  I" 
•he  murmured,  below  her  breath. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A    WEDDING    KINO. 

It  was  almost  nine  when  Jessie  saw  through  the 
tears  which  were  now  nearly  binding  her  a  carriage 
dashing  at  full  speed  up  the  street  toward  her.  The 
driver's  whip  was  applied  unsparingly  to  his  horses, 
who  were  panting  with  their  exertion  and  covered  with 
foam.  There  was  another  man  on  the  box  !  Yes,  yes  J 
It  was  Jack— at  last  ! 

Jessie  called  to  him  faintly,  but  he  heard  ;  and, 
springing  to  the  ground,  he  caught  her  in  his  arms. 

"  I  saw  it  announced — in  a  Boston  paper— on  th« 
train,"  he  gasped,  '*  for  to-night !  Is  it — am  I — too 
late  ?" 

Jessie  hurried  him  through  the  garden  gate  to  aa 
arbor. 

**  Wait  here  !"  she  said,  and  was  gone. 

Up  to  the  house  she  flew  like  the  wind.  Sho 
7 


its 

•stored  the  kitchen  and  asked  the  cook  oreathlesalf 
where  Cora  was. 

"In  her  room;  she's  just  gone  there.'  was  th* 
answer. 

Five  seconds  later  the  child  burs*,  without  cere- 
mony into  her  sister's  chamber. 

"  Cora,  darling,"  she  cried, "  he's  come  !  Jack's  here 
— in  the  arbor  at  the  foot  of  the  garden — waiting  for 
you  !" 

The  bride  reeled  and  seemed  about  to  swoon,  when 
Jessie  caught  her. 

"  Don't  faint,  Cora !  Bear  up  a  little  !  It's  Jack  ! 
He's  come  all  the  way  from  Germany  for  you  !  He 
drove  here  from  Boston,  with  the  horses  at  a  gallop  ! 
Come  with  me  !  Come,  before  it  is  too  late  !" 

The  child  threw  a  shawl  over  her  sister's  head  and 
shoulders  and  led  her  dizzily  out  of  the  house  by  a 
side  door  and  down  to  the  arbor.  Nobody  saw  them 

go- 
Elton   started   up  as   he  heard  and   took  a  step 
toward  them.     Then,  in  the  murky  light  of  the  even- 
ing, he  saw  the  bridal  garments  and  stopped  short. 

"  I've  got  her  !"  cried  Jessie,  in  ecstacy.  "I've  got 
her,  Jack  !" 

The  man  looked  at  the  shrinking,  delicate  form, 
arrayed  in  white.  The  shawl  fell  back  and  he  saw 
there  were  flowers  in  her  hair.  This  his  quick  eye 
caught  at  a  glance.  Wfcen  he  did  not  offer  to  support 
her  the  woman  leaned  for  strength  against  the  arbor, 
and  Trhen  he  still  hesitated,  she  opened  her  «rms  tc 
him.  As  she  did  so  he  saw  the  gleam  of  a  plain  band 
•f  gold  on  her  finger. 

"You  are  married  !'  he  said,  in  awe-struck  tones. 


198 

She  made  mo  verbal  reply,  but  held  her  arms  out 
rtill. 

"You  are  a  wife.  I  cannot  touch  you,"  he  pro- 
ceeded, slowly.  "  I  heard  of  your  intention,  in  Ger- 
Biany,  and  an  hour  later  I  was  on  a  steamer.  I 
reached  New  York  after  noon  to-day  and  caught  the 
train  with  difficulty.  An  accident  occurred — a  wheel 
broke — which  delayed  us  in  Springfield.  It  was  when 
we  were  almost  into  Boston  that  I  saw — in  a  news- 
paper— that  your  wedding  was  to  be  to-night  I  made 
the  coachman  run  his  horses." 

She  sank  upon  an  adjacent  seat,  which  she  founo 
with  Jessie's  help.  And  still  she  held  out  her  arms  to 
him. 

"  I  had  my  money  from  Wyllis.  I  never  told  you 
that.  When  you  wrote  me  what  he  did,  I  could  not 
take  another  cent  of  his.  I  left  the  school.  I  could 
find  only  menial  employment.  Despair  took  posses- 
sion of  me.  What  could  I  write  to  you  ?  I  could  only 
hope.  I  had  told  you,  if  you  could  not  wait  for  me, 
to  say  so  and  I  would  release  you.  You  did  not  ask 
it.  I  believed  you  would  be  true.  Just  before  I 
heard  you  were  about  to  wed  another  I  received  word 
that  an  uncle — an  elder  brother  of  my  father,  whom  I 
had  never  seen — had  died  and  left  me  ten  thousand 
dollars  A  cablegram  enabled  me  to  draw  a  part  of 
the  money.  A  week  sooner  it  might  have  saved  me. 
What  good  will  it  do  now  ?" 

He  stood  like  a  statue  of  Doom,  uttering  these  ter- 
rible words.  She  sat  like  a  pitying  angei,  holding  out 
her  aims  to  him. 

"You  are  married — to  a  man,  they  say,  whe  has 
wealth  and  refinement  to  offer  you.  I  hope  you  will 
be  happy.  Why  do  you  hold  out  your  arms  to  roc  ? 


14  A  WXDDIVG   EOF* 

You  know  there  ^s  no  power  on  earth  to  unclasp  that 
ring  from  your  finger !  You  have  taken  vows.  Fof 
the  love  of  Heaven,  keep  them  sacred  !" 

Cora  rose  and  would  have  fallen,  had  he  not  inter- 
posed to  save  her.  He  caught  her  and  replaced  her  oa 
the  arbor  seat. 

"Good-by,"  he  said.  "I  have  money  enough  now 
to  finish  my  studies.  With  a  medical  education  I  may 
do  some  good  in  the  world.  First,  I  will  repay  all  I 
used  of  that  man's,  with  interest.  In  a  few  days  I 
shall  sail  k>r  Germany.  There  is  nothing  but  sad 
memories  for  me  here." 

He  turned  to  go,  when  Cora  found  ner  voice. 

"Jack !"  she  cried. 

"Well  ?"  he  said,  in  a  chilling  voice,  pausing  where 
he  stood. 

"  You  will  not  leave  me !  Oh,  I  never  knew  how 
much  I  loved  you  until  this  moment !" 

His  features  did  not  relax. 

"You  are  a  wife  !"  he  said.  "Be  careful  what  you 
say  !  Even  words  may  constitute  infidelity  !" 

The  woman  struggled  to  express  herself. 
"  I  know  I  am  a  wife,  Jack  ;  it  is  needless  to  remind 
sne  of  the  fict  which  keeps  you — the  only  man  I  ever 
did  or  ev*"  can  love — at  this  freezing  distance.  But 
there  arr  holier  things  than  a  marriage  like  mine. 
Love  is  a  holier  thing !  You  love  me  and  you  cannot 
leave  rne !  You  don't  know  all !  Mamma  is  slowly 
dying !  We  heard  nothing  from  you  !  I  seemed 
abandoned !  Mamma  wished  it  so  much  !  I  con- 
sented, to  ease  her  mind  !  For  myself,  I  would  rather 
have  died  !  You  shtll  w/go  without  me  !  Married  or 
single,  I  am  yours  !" 

Elton  turned  squarely  and  looked  the  supplicating; 
fiarure  in  the  face. 


IK 

:'  You  can  take  me  from  here  !"  she  tried,  growing 
Bore  excited.  "  I  can  get  a  divorce — after  a  time ! 
We  will  then  be  married  ;  we,  who  love  each  other  so 
dearly.  We  will  go  to  Europe  together  I  will  not 
binder  your  studies,  but  help  them.  Jack,  tUar  Jack, 
hear  me !" 

His  expression  grew  sterner  as  she  proceeded. 

"  Your  mother — your  little  sister,  who  listens  to  you 
— your  fame — what  of  them  ?" 

"I  can  sacrifice  no  more!"  she  said.  "Mamma, 
when  she  learns  all,  will  forgive  me.  Jessie,  young  as 
she  is,  has  urged  me  against  the  marriage  I  have  just 
contracted.  For  my  fame,  is  it  dearer  to  me  than  my 
peace  of  mind,  which,  losing  you,  will  vanish  forever  ?" 

His  words  came  out  sharp  and  cold. 

"  You  have  evidently  much  mistaken  me.  That  I 
loved  you  I  cannoc  deny.  That  I  would  have  given  the 
world  to  call  you  mine,  you  know.  But  now  there  are 
Mountains  between  us  !  Good-by." 

He  had  taken  a  dozen  of  his  long  strides  when 
Jessie,  who  had  remained  a  silent  spectator  of  the 
scenes  just  recorded,  was  at  his  side.  He  stopped  and 
placed  an  arm  about  the  child. 

"  Are  you  going  to  leave  Cora  ?"  she  said,  pleading- 
ly, holding  up  her  eager  face  to  his. 

"  You  are  too  young  to  understand — "  he  began, 
stooping  to  kiss  her  ;  but  she  drew  away. 

"  It  will  kill  her  !"  she  continued.  "  She  cried  for 
you,  day  after  day  !  You  would  not  write !  They 
have  urged  her  to  marry  against  her  will !  She  love* 
you  !  Oh,  come  back  to  her  !" 

She  tried  to  draw  him  toward  the  arbor  by  main 
strength. 

"  You  UKHt'tt"  she  cried,  seeing  in  his  face  no  sign 


196  A  wnraro  rare. 

of  relenting.  Then  I  will  never  love  you  agals  ' 
You  are  no  more  my  big  brother !  1  told  Mr.  Johnson 
I  should  always  hate  him,  but  I  shall  hate  you  worse  I 
You're  wickeder  than  he  is,  for  he  loves  Cora  and  you 
don't  Please  come,  Jack  !"  she  added,  as  a  last  effort 
Ptou*  do !" 

He  linked  his  fingers  in  her  curls  and  felt  how 
little  he  could  impress  upon  her  childish  mind  the 
infamy  of  that  to  which  she  urged  him  in  her  inno- 
cence. 

"Jessie,  I  cannot,"  was  all  he  could  utter. 

"Then  gof  she  cried,  angrily.  "G«l  Cora  will 
die !  You  will  be  happy  then  !  Remember — I  Aate 
you  !" 

She  left  him,  with  the  terrible  words  ringing  in  hi* 
ears,  and  went  back  to  Cora.  Her  sister  had  suc- 
cumbed to  the  strain  on  her  mind  and  lay  unconscious 
on  the  arbor  seat.  Jessie  ran  to  the  house  and  dashed 
into  the  parlor. 

"  Cora  took  a  walk  with  me  into  the  garden,"  she 
cried,  *'  and  she  has  fainted  there  !" 

Help  was  procured  and  the  inanimate  form  was 
carried  to  a  bed,  where  shortly  after  a  physician  stood 
by  it,  giving  directions.  It  was  a  severe  case,  he 
admitted,  and  it  would  be  at  least  several  days  before 
she  ought  to  rise.  The  wedding  trip  was  incon- 
tinently postponed  and  the  bridegroom  was  compelled, 
at  a  late  hour,  to  seek  a  Boston  hotel  alone. 

After  Mrs.  Ashleigh  had  been  persuaded  to  retire, 
Mrs.  Wyllis,  with  a  nurse,  watched  with  Cora  through 
the  night.  Delirium  set  in  and  the  name  of  "Jack  " 
rang  out  in  pleading  accents  more  than  once.  "  Jack  !" 
Cora  would  scream,  "  don't  leave  me  !  Oh,  I  love  no 
one  else !  I  didn't  think  yt^t  would  ever  return  !  I 


1*7 

•tarried  him  to  make  mamma's  mind  easier  f"  Plaint- 
ively the  words  came,  many  times,  "  Oh,  I  aever  kMW 
till  now  how  much  I  loved  you  !" 

About  three  o'clock  Mrs.  Wyllis  had  occasion  to 
go  for  something  into  Jessie's  room  and  found  tho 
girl  wide  awake,  sitting  in  a  chair.  She  had  not  evea 
undressed. 

"  Why,  child,  are  you  not  in  bed  r  she  said.  u  Yea 
will  be  sick  at  this  rate." 

Jessie  answered  her  in  a  hoarse  voice : 

"  Will  Cora  die  ?" 

"Die!"  repeated  Mrs.  Wyllis.  "Certainly  aot ! 
She  is  merely  exhausted.  To-morrow  or  aext  day  she 
will  be  around  again." 

"  I  think  she  would  rather  die,  if  she  could,"  said 
Jessie. 

Mrs.  Wyllis'  suspicions  had  been  aroused  by  Cora's 
rambling  exclamations.  She  believed  that  Jessie  had 
a  secret  on  her  mind. 

"  What  were  you  aad  Cora  doing  ia  the  gardea  T 
she  asked. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  Jessie. 

"  Who  else  was  there  Y* 

"  No  one,"  said  the  child,  boldly. 

"Do  you  call  Mr.  Elton  ne  one?"  asked  Mrs. 
Wyllis,  determined  to  risk  everything  on  one  ques- 
tion. 

Jessie  was  thrown  completely  off  her  guard. 

"  Did  you  see  him  ?'  she  asked,  guiltily. 

"  How  came  he  to  be  there  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Wyliia, 
evasively. 

"  I  wrote  to  him.  He  would  have  got  here  at  eight 
o'clock  only  for  a  car  wheel  that  broke  at  Springfield. 


m 

But  for  an  accident  Cora  would  never  hare  manned 
that  hateful,  horrid  old  Johnson  !" 

Mrs.  Wyllis  drew  a  deep  sigh  of  relief.  Had  the 
escape,  then,  been  so  very  narrow  ? 

"What  did  Mr.  Elton  say  when  he  found  he 
had  come  too  late  ?"  she  asked,  composedly. 

"  Oh,  he  said  everything  that  was  mean  !  I  shall 
never  love  him  again  !  I  shall  never  love  anybody ! 
They're  all  alike !  I  thought  Jack  was  better  than  the 
rest,  but  he  wouldn't  take  Cora  away,  though  she 
begged  him  so  hard  !  He  talked  very  high  and  said 
he  couldn't — and  that  she  was  married — and  that  he 
was  going  right  back  to  Germany  to  finish  his  old 
doctor-books !  Some  uncle  or  other  has  left  him 
plenty  of  money,  so  he  won't  have  that  to  trouble  him. 
I  wish  he'd  tied  it  around  his  neck  and  drowned  him- 
self. I  do  really  !  I  thought  everybody  else  was 
mean,  but  I  believed  in  Jack  !" 

"  A  double  escape  from  a  most  perilous  position,** 
thought  Mrs.  Wyllis.  "Well,  the  young  fellow  did  a 
very  creditable  thing.  I  could  not  have  believed  Cera 
would  go  so  far." 

When  she  left  the  room,  she  tried  to  impress  upon 
Jessie  the  importance  of  not  relating  to  any  one  else 
what  she  had  told  her.  She  said  Cora  would  feel  very 
badly  if  others  were  t3  hear  it 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care  who  hears  it,"  Jessie  answered, 
•pitef ully.  "  I  don't  care  for  anything  or  anybody." 

Still,  after  further  talk,  Mrs.  Wyllis  felt  that  the 
secret  was  safe,  and  left  without  fear  that  it  would  get 
repeated  further. 

Cora  did  not  get  well  the  next  day  nor  the  next. 
She  lay  for  six  weeks  in  a  darkened  chamber  and  only 
the  best  of  care  preserved  her  life.  Her  husband 


aurjoi.  Itt 

alternated  between  Cambridge,  Boston  and  New  York, 
now  buoyed  up  with  hope,  now  stricken  with  despair. 
When  at  last  he  received  his  trembling  bride  from  her 
physician's  hands  and  was  allowed  to  bear  her  away 
to  his  metropolitan  home,  she  was  but  a  pale,  spirit- 
like  shadow  of  the  beautiful  girl  with  whom  he  became 
enamored  six  months  previous. 

Before  Cora  left  Cambridge,  she  visited  Mount 
Auburn  where,  beneath  a  mound  of  freshly  dug 
earth,  they  told  her  lay  the  mother  at  whose  last 
request  she  had  given  up  what  she  most  dearly  loved. 
The  bride  bent  low  over  the  grave. 

"  Dear  mamma,  you  are  at  rest !"  she  whispered. 
"  Would  to  God  I  were  beside  you  !" 


CHAPTER  XXL 

IT  18  FATS  ! 

Claude  Wyllis  was  not  more  than  a  few  days  sail 
from  land  on  his  steamer  when  Jack  Elton  embarked 
from  a  German  port.  They  passed  each  other  some- 
where in  mid-ocean,  neither  suspecting  the  movements 
of  his  late  friend  Claude  had  worried  a  good  deal 
over  the  complications  which  had  grown  out  of  what 
he  termed  "  his  little  indiscretion."  That  so  great  a 
trouble  could  arise  from  so  small  a  cause  seemed 
ridiculous,  but  as  it  had  arisen,  he  meant  to  do  every- 
thing possible  to  remedy  it.  He  expected  to  be  re- 
ceived coldly,  perhaps  threateningly,  by  the  irascible 


BW  nr  ii  rxrml 

student ;  but  he  was  no  coward.  He  believed  Cora'i 
unhappy  situation  might  be  made  a  sufficiently  strong 
argument  to  convince  Elton  that  he  was  pursuing  a 
wrong  course. 

Claude  had  no  suspicion  of  the  Johnson- Ashleigh 
movement  on  the  Madison  household.  Mr.  Johnson's 
deep  interest  ia  the  "  buggy  story "  he  attributed 
solely  to  its  inherent  value,  and  the  invitations  of  Mrs. 
Ashleigh  to  Cora  while  in  New  York  seemed  to  him 
only  natural.  As  much  as  he  knew  of  women,  in  a 
certain,  sense,  he  never  claimed  to  understand  their 
code  of  dealings  with  each  other.  Cora  was  young 
and  handsome.  What  more  reasonable  than  for  Mrs. 
Ashleigh,  who  knew  Belle  so  well,  to  invite  them  both 
to  dinner,  where  her  brother  would  of  course  be  pres- 
ent ?  He  knew  the  lawyer  as  a  business  man  of 
methodical  habits,  and  supposed,  as  did  that  gentle- 
man's other  acquaintances,  that  he  had  settled  down 
into  confirmed  bachelorhood.  If  he  should  ever  take 
upon  himself  connubial  ties  it  would  be,  Claude 
thought,  with  some  aristocratic  and  wealthy  lady  in 
his  own  circle.  That  he  might  offer  his  hand  to  a  girl 
of  no  family  or  means,  seemed  preposterous. 

The  fact  that  Mrs.  Ashleigh  had  taken  rooms  at 
the  Madison  house,  even  had  he  known  it,  would  have 
signified  nothing  to  Claude  ;  but  it  happened  that,  in 
the  few  visits  which  he  made  to  Cora  after  that  lady 
arrived,  he  saw  nothing  of  her,  and  the  girl  was  too 
much  absorbed  in  more  engrossing  subjects  to  think 
"t  worthy  of  mention. 

As  he  sat  in  his  steamer  chair,  sailing  out  of  the 
harbor,  visions  of  Jack  and  Cora,  reunited  and  happy, 
flitted  across  his  brain.  He  had  a  sanguine  tempera- 
ment and  was  apt  to  look  on  the  brighter  side,  unless 


a  is  wjaa  iO 

persistently  by  an  adverse  fate.  At  an  early 
hour  he  sought  his  stateroom  and  was  soon  wrapped  ill 
slumber. 

When  he  reached  the  deck  next  morning  he  was 
the  earliest  passenger  there.  The  steamer  was  plowing 
her  way  through  a  dense  fog,  as  sha  neared  the 
"  Banks,"  the  view  in  all  directions  being  completely 
obscured.  Claude  paced  slowly  up  and  down  for  half- 
an-hour  and  was  about  to  descend  into  the  cabin  whea 
a  sight  that  always  had  charms  for  him  broke  upon  his 
vision. 

A  young  girl,  perhaps  seventeen  years  of  age,  came 
toward  him  and  in  the  frankest  manner  inquired  : 

"  Do  you  think  this  fog  will  last  all  day,  sir  ?" 

Claude  smiled  into  the  fair,  fresh  young  face.  The 
girl  was  tall,  with  that  shade  of  light  hair  for  which  so 
many  Germans  are  noted,  and  with  the  tawny  eyes  so 
often  read  of  in  stories  and  so  seldom  seen  in  real  life. 

"I  am  smiling,"  he  said,  "because  everybody  not 
used  to  crossing  the  sea  asks  that  identical  question 
on  the  first  morning  out.  I  would  like  to  answer  you, 
but  the  fact  is,  nobody  can  predict  much  about  these 
fogs.  They  may  clear  away  by  noon  and  they  may 
last  three  or  four  days." 

She  had  broken  the  ice  with  her  question  and  very 
soon  they  became  confidential  to  a  degree  which  never 
could  happen  on  land,  but  seems  perfectly  natural  on 
chipboard.  Before  the  day  was  over  she  knew  his 
name  was  Claude  Wyllis,  his  residence  New  York,  and 
his  destinatio.i  Berlin  ;  and  he  knew  she  was  Miss 
Lulu  Bornstein,  of  Milwaukee,  an  orphan,  bound  also 
to  Berlin,  where  she  expected  to  secure  an  engagement 
in  the  opera.  Her  father  had  been  of  German  birth, 
her  mother  an  American,  and  she  spoke  the  languages 


SOt  R  H  FATBl 

of  bott  countries  equally  well.  Her  voice  had  received 
aauch  cultivation  and  she  now  sought  experience  im 
the  schools  where  music  reaches  its  highest  point  She 
bore  letters  of  introduction  to  eminent  teachers  and 
maestros.  Yes,  she  was  traveling  wholly  alone.  Her 
guardian,  an  old  Milwaukee  brewer,  let  her  do  entirely 
as  she  pleased. 

"  He  couldn't  help  it ;  I  am  quite  unmanageable," 
she  explained. 

Neither  she  nor  Claude  knew  another  soul  on  the 
steamer,  and  after  the  first  day  they  became  inseparable. 
They  met  early  each  morning  for  a  ten  minutes'  appe- 
tizer on  the  deck.  They  descended  to  breakfast 
together,  the  purser  having,  by  request,  given  them 
seats  at  the  same  table,  which  happened  to  be  that  of 
the  captain.  After  the  meal  was  ended  they  took 
chairs  on  the  deck  and  sat  together,  sometimes  read- 
ing, sometimes  talking,  until  lunch.  In  the  afternoon 
they  separated  for  a  siesta,  according  to  the  nearly 
universal  custom.  At  dinner  they  met  again,  and  after 
seven  o'clock  the  deck  was  revisited,  to  be  left  only  at 
a  very  late  hour. 

By  ten  o'clock,  and  sometimes  earlier,  most  of  the 
passengers,  tired  of  the  ocean's  monotony,  retired  ta 
their  staterooms.  The  deck  was  thus  left,  almost 
exclusively,  with  the  exception  of  the  necessary  officers 
of  the  ship,  to  Lulu  and  Claude.  A  ship's  officer  seems 
to  pay  no  more  attention  to  a  young  couple  than  if  he 
were  a  graven  image,  unless  appealed  to  by  one  of 
them.  Their  hour  for  retiring  grew  later  and  later  A 
new  moon  started  with  the  ship  and  kept  it  company 
all  the  way,  growing  bigger  and  brighter  night  by 
night  The  new  friends  found  enough  to  talk  about 
What  they  said  doe*  not  matter,  but  it  was  nothing  of 


IT  B  FAT»!  SOS 

lore.  Claude  Wyllis  knew  better  than  to  breach  that 
subject  too  early. 

The  other  passengers  noticed  their  attachment  and 
made  comments  among  themselves,  more  or  less  ill- 
aatured,  concerning  it.  As  the  criticised  couple  did 
aot  know  this,  it  had  no  effect  on  them,  and  probably 
would  not,  even  if  they  had.  Wyllis  was  not  of  a  dis- 
position to  care  for  any  one's  opinion,  and  Miss  Born- 
stein  was  just  wilful  enough  to  continue  her  course 
"for  spite."  They  pursued  the  even  tenor  of  their 
way  undisturbed,  until  one  remarkably  beautiful 
night,  when  Claude  grew  sentimental. 

"  It  is  our  last  walk  on  this  ship,"  he  said,  placing 
his  hand"  upon  the  little  one  which  lay  within  his  arm. 
"  The  happiest  hours  I  have  ever  known  are  those  we 
have  passed  here  together." 

The  girl  laughed  merrily. 

"  What  a  sober  face  !"  she  cried.  "  You  should  have 
your  photograph  taken  with  that  look  on  it !" 

He  answered  a  little  regretfully  : 

"  Are  you  glad,  then,  that  our  journey  is  to  be  ended 
so  soon  ?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered.  "I  am  very  anxious  to  get 
to  Berlin,  where  I  can  go  on  with  my  music.  Every 
day  on  this  steamer  keeps  me  from  the  goal  of  my 
ambition — the  triamph  I  am  to  achieve  as  a  great 
prima  donna !" 

"  I  may  call  on  you  at  Berlin  ?"  he  queried.  "  Yo« 
have  promised  it." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  brief  calls  ;  but  I  shail  be  se  busy,  that 
is,  if  I  get  into  the  opera,  as  I  must  It  will  be  study, 
study,  all  the  time." 

"  Is  there  not  something  I  can  do  to  help  you  T* 

"  Yes  ;  keep  awar  when  I  am  not  prepared  to  give 


Hp  my  time  to  you  ;  and  by-and-ty,  when  I  appear  in 
tolo  parts,  you  can  purchase  the  most  expensive  boxes 
aad  applaud  vigorously." 

He  could  not  tell,  experienced  though  he  was*  how 
much  of  her  retort  was  real — whether  any  of  It  IDS 
cealed  a  deeper  feeling. 

"  I  wish  to  put  a  question  to  you,"  he  said,  aftet 
some  further  conversation.  "  It  is  merely  a  hypotheti- 
cal case  and  I  want  you  to  consider  it.  Supposing  a 
girl  was  crossing  the  ocean — we  will  say  from  America 
to  Germany  ;  a  girl  of  perhaps  seventeen  years  of  age, 
with  everything  about  her  to  charm  the  beholder ;  a 
girl  with  talents,  bright,  vivacious,  hopeful."  . 

"  You  are  only  supposing  this  case  ?"  interrupted 
Miss  Bornstein. 

"  Only  supposing  it.  Well,  now,  supposing  this 
girl  to  have  met  a  strange  gentleman  on  the  steamer 
with  whom  she  had  passed,  we  will  say,  a  pleasant 
voyage.  Supposing  they  were  walking  the  deck  alone 
at  a  late  hour — on  the  last  night  before  they  would 
reach  port — and  this  gentleman  should  ask  this  girl — " 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  as  he  hesitated. 

"  For  a  kiss — just  one  little  kiss — to  carry  its 
memory  with  him  as  long  as  he  lived — wherever  he 
might  be.  I  say,  in  a  case  which  we  might  suppose 
like  this,  what  should  that  girl  reply  ?" 

He  stopped  in  his  walk.  They  leaned  together  ca 
the  rail.  The  moon  illumined  her  face  and  made  a 
halo  of  her  hair. 

"I — should — say,"  she  replied,  slowly  "that  this 
girl,  who — we  will  suppose — intended  to  devote  her 
life  to  the  operatic  stage,  ought  to  use  the  greatest  caro 
to  preserve  her  reputation.  As  much  as  she  might 
kave  enjoyed  the  gentleman's  companionship,  she 


0  H  JAMS!  90ft 

wovld  hesitate,  I  think,  to  commit  aa  act  which  would 
always  cause  her  regret.  For  she  would  know  thai 
some  one  existed  who  could  say,  whenever  he  saw  her 
or  heard  her  name,  '  That  girl  gave  to  me  what  she 
should  never  have  given  except  to  relation  or  lover.' 
The  result  would  be  that  it  would  always  lower  her  i» 
his  estimation  and  in  her  own." 

She  said  the  words  very  kindly,  but  he  felt  them  as 
a  rebuke. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,"  he  answered.  "  I 
should  have  come  to  the  same  decision.  But  let  us 
suppose  a  little  farther — let  us  suppose  that  the  gentle- 
man asked  it  as  a  lover's  guerdon  ?" 

She  looked  up  to  study  his  face  before  replying. 

"  If  this  girl  of  whom  we  are  speaking — this  hypo- 
thetical young  lady — hoped  to  make  a  name  before 
the  footlights,  she  would  be  wise  to  keep  all  lovers  at 
a  distance  for  many  years.  Lovers  and  music  are  both 
very  good  things,  doubtless,  but  they  are  irreconcil- 
able." 

«  Lulu,"  he  said—"  I  may  call  you  Lulu  ?"— 

"Yes." 

"  Lulu — a  true  friend  may  be  of  value  to  you." 

*  I  am  sure  of  that,"  she  answered. 

"  You  are  young— excuse  me,  I  must  say  it — to  be 
&lune  in  a  foreign  land.  A  hundred  pitfalls  will  opes 
before  you.  You  will  not  know  whom  to  trust." 

She  looked  up  brightly. 

a  Then  I  will  trust  no  one.  I  shall  find  no  trouble 
to  securing  rooms  with  some  motherly  frau,  and  my 
studies  will  leave  me  no  time  to  go  far  astray.  It  is 
late  now  and  we  must  part  for  the  night.  You  know 
my  Berlin  banker's  address.  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you 
again,  but  I  wars  you  it  cannot  be  often.  I  have 


•Of  nr  »  »ATI! 

liked  you  so  far  because  you  have  aot  filled  my  cart 
with  nonsense.  I  shall  continue  to  like  you  until  yon 
begin  something  of  that  kind,  and  then  there  will  be  a 
•udden  and  wide  separation." 

There  was  so  much  dignity  in  her  manner,  com- 
bined with  such  a  touching  gentleness,  that  Claude 
essayed  no  reply.  He  escorted  her  to  the  cabin, 
where  he  bade  her  good  night  as  cheerfully  as  he 
could. 

Two  hours  later  he  tossed  sleeplessly  in  his  berth. 

"  Why  should  I  have  said  those  cursed  things  to  her!" 
he  muttered  to  himself.  "She  is  destined  to  a  great 
career — with  her  youth,  beauty,  energy  and  talent. 
How  the  passengers  stared  when  she  sang  in  the  cabin 
that  evening !  She  can  be  another  Parepa  at  least ; 
perhaps  a  Lucca  or  Gerster  !  And  I  would  tear  it  all 
to  pieces  for  a  few  months'  gratification  !  When  I 
think  of  it  I  feel  like  throwing  myself  in  the  sea.  I 
wish  I  had  the  courage  to  write  her  the  truth.  Then 
she  would  despise  me,  but  it  would  save  her." 

After  a  little  further  thought  he  rose  and,  taking 
eut  his  writing  materials,  indited  the  following: 

"  MlSS    BORNSTEIN  : 

"  The  pleasure  of  your  company  during  these  day* 
of  travel  is  something  I  can  never  forget  But  I  owe 
you  a  confession,  which,  painful  as  it  is  to  me,  and 
may  be  to  you,  I  now  summon  the  courage  to  make. 
It  is,  in  brief,  that  I  am  married. 

"  When  you  know  this  fact  I  can  no  longer  accept 
your  kind  invitation  to  call  on  you  at  Berlin.  I  write 
this  in  a  moment  of  repentance,  realizing  its  full 
effect. 

"  This  may  warn  you  against  the  too  intimate 


LULU   AMD  CLAUDS.  107 

ftdence*  of  strangers  and,  when  its  unpleasant  taste  it 
yoae.  prove  a  benefit.     You  cannot  trust  men  ! 
"  Yours  contritely, 

"CLAUDK  WTLLM." 

He  sealed  this  letter  up,  addressed  it,  and  rang  for 
the  room  steward. 

"  See  that  Miss  Bornstein  gets  this  the  first  thing 
in  the  morning,"  he  said  to  the  man,  handing  him  the 
letter  and  a  gold  piece. 

The  boat  reached  her  moorings  early.  Wyllis, 
tired  out  after  a  sleepless  night,  was  the  last  passenger 
to  leave.  As  he  was  about  to  depart,  one  of  the 
female  stewards  came  to  him  with  his  letter  in  her 
hand. 

"  I  think  you  gave  this  to  one  of  the  men,  sir,  to  be 
handed  to  Miss  Bornstein.  She  left  in  such  a  hurry 
that  I  forgot  to  give  it  to  her.  You  may  have  learned 
her  address." 

Claude  took  the  letter,  opened  it  and  read  over  its 
contents.  Then  he  mechanically  tore  it  into  little 
pieces  and  let  them  fall  in  the  water. 

"  I  tried,  but  I  could  not  succeed.     It  is  FATS  !"  ht 


CHAPTER 

LULU    AND   CLAUDE. 

Fer  severai  days  Claude  hunted  for  Jack,  aad  at 
last  arrived  at  the  truth.  He  found  ke  had  made  his 
journey  for  nothing,  as  far  as  Elton  was  concerned, 
but  believed  that  if  the  young  man  had  reached  Cam- 


•Oft  LULU   AMD  OLAUDB. 

bridge  all  was  undoubtedly  well.  Not  long  after, 
however,  he  received  a  letter  from  his  wife  which  mad« 
kirn  open  his  eyes.  In  it  were  the  following  para- 
graphs: 

"  I  think  I  have  news  that  will  surprise  you.  Cora 
Madison  was  married  last  evening,  not  to  your  friend 
Elton,  but  to  Mr.  J.  S.  Johnson,  of  New  York.  It  seems 
they  had  arranged  it  quietly  among  themselves,  Mrs. 
Madison  being  anxious  to  have  Cora  well  settled 
before  she  died.  Elton  arrived  here  an  hour  or  so 
after  the  ceremony.  He  behaved  very  well  and  will 
return  at  once  to  finish  his  education.  An  uncle  has 
left  him  a  bequest,  and  I  understand  your  money  haa 
been  left  for  you  at  Brewster  &  Bassett's.  I  don't 
know  as  you  will  agree  with  me,  but  I  think  Cora's 
marriage  is  splendid.  It  will  be  much  better  than  for 
her  to  wait  until  your  hot-headed  friend  could  give 
her  a  home. 

"The  Madisons  will  all  reside  with  Mr.  Johnson. 
Mrs.  M.,  who  grows  feebler  daily,  will  be  taken  to  Ber- 
muda in  a  short  time." 

Claude's  feelings,  when  he  read  these  lines,  were 
not  enviable.  He  went  out  for  a  loag  walk  to  quiet 
his  nerves.  He  suspected  that  Belle  had  a  deeper 
hand  in  the  Johnson  movement  than  she  admitted. 
This  made  him  get  into  a  rage  with  his  wife,  and  be- 
fore he  uad  done  with  that  phase  of  the  subject  he  had 
determined  on  a  number  of  reprisals.  When  he 
thought  of  Johnson  he  grew  still  angrier.  Was  it  the 
part  of  courtesy  for  tkat  man — his  own  confidential 
attorney,  whom  he  had  introduced  to  Cora—- to 
arrange  this  marriage  off-hand,  without  saying  a  word 


LDLIT   JJfD   OKA.UDB.  fiOS 

to  bim  ?  He  would  take  every  particle  of  his  b\  Jness 
from  such  a  man  ;  yes,  he  would,  as  soon  as  he  could 
write  him  to  that  effect !  It  was  despicable  !  In  this 
way  Claude  raved  for  an  hour  or  two  to  himself,  and 
ended  as  usual  by  doing  nothing. 

It  was  Cora's  affair,  after  all.  If  she  preferred 
Johnson,  after  the  way  Elton  used  her,  she  had  a  right 
to  do  so.  Perhaps  it  was  best  that  way.  Johnson  had 
suddenly  become  a  lover,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life. 
Claude,  as  he  became  more  sober,  could  not  criticise 
too  harshly  a  man  in  that  insane  condition.  It  would 
look  contemptible  to  avenge  himself  by  taking  his 
business  from  the  lawyer.  He  felt  sorry  for  Elton, 
but  it  was  somewhat  the  student's  own  fault.  Why 
need  he  have  made  such  a  row  with  a  man  who  had 
befriended  him,  over  such  an  insignificant  affair.  He 
now  had  money  enough  and  could  probably  study 
better  with  the  love  affair  effaced  from  his  mind. 
Then,  there  was  Belle.  Claude  began  to  think  of  her 
tenderly.  He  was  getting  lonesome  without  her.  He 
wished  he  had  brought  her  along. 

Thoughts  of  Belle  led  him  very  naturally  to  thoughts 
of  Lulu  and,  as  a  week  and  more  had  elapsed  since  he 
saw  her,  he  ventured  to  leave  a  polite  note  at  her  bank- 
er's— who  happened  to  be  also  his  own — asking  when 
he  might  call. 

The  week  had  been  a  dull  one  to  the  ambitious  gill 
She  had  found  it  not  so  easy  as  she  supposed  to  plunge 
at  its  highest  tide  into  the  musical  sea  of  Berlin.  Some 
of  the  musicians  to  whom  her  letters  of  introduction 
were  addressed  were  out  of  the  city  ;  others  answered 
in  what  she  thought  a  very  tool  way.  One  appointed 
an  hour  for  her,  heard  her  sing  and  said,  in  reply  to 
her  earnest  queries,  "  Passible  !  possible !  Bat  you 


910  LULU    AHD   OLAUML 

will  need  much  teaching  before  you  can  expect  &£ 
doors  of  the  opera  to  open  to  you." 

When  Claude's  letter  came,  it  was  a  genuine 
delight.  He  was  at  least  a  person  whom  she  had 
known  before  she  reached  the  city  in  which  all  others 
were  perfect  strangers.  She  could  talk  to  him  in 
English,  which  scunded  mo*e  like  a  mother-tongue 
than  the  gutturals  she  had  never  till  now  disliked. 
Then,  again,  she  felt  the  need  of  a  chaperon.  She 
could  not  walk  about  freely  without  an  escort,  as  at 
Milwaukee.  Men  start/d  at  her  in  the  street  and  made 
remarks  intended  as  compliments,  but  which  brought 
the  blood  to  her  cheeks.  She  had  not  dared  venture 
out  in  the  evening  at  all. 

When  Claude  called,  he  was  delighted  at  the 
warmth  of  his  reception.  As  she  talked  of  her  experi- 
ences, in  her  frank,  vivacious  manner,  his  pleased 
smile  deepened. 

"You  will  begin  to  believe  me  after  a  time,"  he 
said.  "  You  need,  more  than  any  thing  else,  a  mascu- 
line friend,  who  will  hold  himself  subject  to  your  com- 
mands.  Once  more,  let  me  offer  myself  in  mat 
capacity." 

She  laughed  gaily  and  said  : 

"  A  masculine  friend  is  an  article  not  to  be  des- 
pised ;  that  I  am  willing  to  admit.  He  may  be  very 
useful  when  needed.  The  only  difficulty  I  anticipate 
,s,  that  he  will  persist  in  appearing  at  inconvenient 
times,  and  thus  become  a  nuisance.  If  I  could  call 
him  with  a  bell,  as  I  could  a  domestic,  and  dismiss 
him  in  like  manner,  he  would  be  invaluable." 

He  declared  himself  willing  to  accept  the  position 
on  those  terms*  and  they  grew  very  merry  together. 


LULU   Aim  0LAUDB.  Ill 

u  What  do  you  thimk  of  the  opera  here  ?"  he  uked, 
presently. 

"I  haven't  attended  a  single  performance,"  she 
admitted.  "How  could  I?  I  don't  know  a  perso* 
here  and  to  go  alone  would  subject  me  to  great  annoy- 
ance." 

He  looked  delighted. 

"Let  me  propose,  then,  that  we  begin  our  new 
arrangement  without  delay.  Let  me  take  you  to  a  lit- 
tle dinner  immediately  and  to  the  opera  to-night.  I 
will  sign  a  bond,  if  you  require  it,  to  return  you  safe 
and  sound  at  this  door." 

She  showed  the  pleasure  the  proposition  gave  her. 

"  I  presume  it  is  all  wrong,"  she  said,  "  according  to 
the  canons  of  society,  for  me  to  do  anything  of  the 
sort,  but  I  cannot  refuse.  You  are  exceedingly  kind 
and  I  will  be  ready  in  a  few  minutes." 

He  sat  there,  awaiting  her,  in  his  h  ippiest  mood. 
He  forgot  the  serious  letter  he  had  writ  ten  and  after- 
ward torn  to  pieces.  She  was  young  ind  beautiful, 
and  her  presence  charmed  him.  It  was  as  impossible 
for  him  to  forego  the  pleasure  of  an  evening  with 
her  as  it  is  for  the  steel  to  avoid  kissirg  the  magne- 
tized metal. 

She  looked  more  charming  than  ever  in  her  bonnet 
and  wrap,  and,  as  they  walked  along  the  street,  many 
heads  were  turned  to  look  at  the  handsome  couple, 
who  evidently  found  each  other's  society  so  agreeable. 

A  private  room  at  the  elegant  restaurant  to  which 
he  took  her  suggested  nothing  improper  to  the  girl, 
who  had  never  dined  at  such  a  place  before  in  her  life. 
While  waiting  for  the  meal  to  be  prepared  he  sent  a 
messenger  for  an  opera  box  and  had  the  fortune  to 
secure  one  of  the  best.  The  dinner  was  excellent  iud 


Sli  LULU  1VD  0LATOB. 

both  attacked  it  with  zest.  The  wine,  of  which  th» 
girl  partook  sparingly,  did  not  lessen  the  flow  of  con- 
versation, and  the  ship-board  friendship  was  nothing 
compared  to  that  which  they  formed  when  thus  thrown 
together  entirely  by  themselTes. 

At  the  opera,  Lulu  was  entranced.  "I  can  sing 
that !  I  can  sing  that !"  she  whispered  to  him  a  dozen 
times,  putting  her  hand  on  his  arm.  "  Oh,  I  can  sing 
it,  if  they'll  only  give  me  a  chance  !"  And  he  whis- 
pered that  she  should  have  the  chance — that  he  would 
use  his  influence,  if  it  became  necessary,  through  friends 
on  the  American  legation.  He  thought  it  reward 
enough  when  she  thanked  him  with  her  beautiful 
tawny  eyes. 

Agreeable  to  his  promise — though  sorely  to  his  re- 
gret— he  took  her  in  a  carriage  to  her  lodgings  as 
loon  as  the  curtain  fell.  He  was  content  with  the 
progress  he  had  made.  Lulu  would  not  repulse  him 
again.  He  would  become  a  necessity  to  her  in  a  little 
while —  and  then  ! 

One  day  his  correspondents  at  Freiburg  wrote  him 
that  Elton  had  returned  to  the  university,  and  he  went 
there.  He  must  see  the  student  some  time  and  he 
wanted  it  over.  If  Jack  was  bound  to  break  with  him 
forever,  he  preferred  to  know  it.  If  he  could  talk  him 
into  reason  he  would  rather  do  it  now  than  later. 

As  he  was  crossing  the  city  from  his  hotel  on  the 
morning  of  his  arrival,  he  met  Elton  unexpectedly  in 
one  of  the  small  parks.  The  student's  look  was  dark 
enough,  as  his  former  friend  and  benefactor  stopped 
him  with  outstretched  hand. 

"Jack,  old  boy,"  said  Wyllis,  "I  have  crossed  th« 
ocean  to  see  you.  Won't  you  shake  hands  ?" 

Elton  made  no  movement  to  comply. 


L7JLTJ   AMD  OLAUBB.  fit 

"Two  months  ago,  ae  said,  harshly,  "I  think  I 
should  have  struck  you  !  Now  I  can  only  say,  I  do 
not  wish  you  to  speak  to  me." 

"  You  have  forgotten — "  Claude  began. 

"No,  I  have  forgotten  nothing.  I  wish  I  could  * 
know  what  you  did  to  aid  me.  Your  money,  with  tern 
per  cent,  interest — the  agreement  was  six — awaits  you 
at  Boston.  I  have  other  means  and  shall  finish  my 
studies  with  them.  You  have  wronged  me  deeply  and 
you  must  not  think  of  addressing  me  hereafter." 

"Is  that  the  kindest  word  you  have  for  me,  Jack  ?'• 

"That  is  all.  I  am  not  one  who  can  pretend.  You 
acted  outrageously  to  the  girl  I  loved.  She  is  now  a 
wife  and  my  right  to  avenge  her  wrongs  has  expired, 
but  I  cannot  forget.  You  say  you  came  here  to  see 
me.  You  are  not  welcome.  Our  paths  lie  in  different 
directions." 

Wyllis  looked  at  the  moody  face  with  a  tender 
expression. 

"  Some  day,  Jack,  you  will  know  you  have  wronged 
me.  I  tried  to  kiss  Cora  in  a  moment  of  passion.  It 
was  different  from  a  deliberately  planned  attempt  to 
injure  you,  like  that,  for  instance,  which  you  made 
when  you  tried  to  prevent  Miss  Vaughan  from  mar- 
rying me — and  yet  I  have  said  nothing." 

Elton  turned  on  him  savagely. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  know  why  I  did  that  ?"  he  cried. 

"No,"  said  Claude,  gently,  "I  wish  to  know  noth- 
ing that  could  reflect  on  the  honor  of  my  irfe." 

He  turned  and  went  his  way  ;  and  Elton  felt  a  mo- 
mentary pity  for  him — a  pity  that  he  could  not  un- 
derstand— but  which  deepened  as  he  saw  the 
tared  shadow  disappearing  in  the  distance. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

ONI    KIND   Or   MATRIMONY. 

"I  never  dreamed  that  "anything  could  be  quite  M 
horrible  !" 

So  wrote  Cora  Johnson  to  Mrs.  Wyllis  a  month 
after  she  became  a  wife  in  reality  and  joined  her  hus- 
band at  his  New  York  home.  Mrs.  Wyllis  was  visit- 
ing at  Colonel  Mitchell's  Newport  villa  when  the  letter 
reached  her. 

"  I  have  said  unpleasant  things  to  you,"  pursued 
Cora,  "  which  I  hope  you  will  forgive.  I  have  never 
credited  the  insinuations  against  you  ;  but  if  all  were 
true  which  they  would  have  had  me  believe,  you 
would  still  seem  to  me  no  lower  than  1  feel  myself  in 
this  hateful  union.  To  be  at  the  beck  of  a  man  for 
whom  I  entertain  no  sentiment  of  affection  ;  to  accept 
his  caresses,  to  the  last  drop  in  the  nauseous  cup ;  to 
bear  his  name  ;  to  think  that  this  must  last  until  death 
claims  one  or  the  other  !  What  fate  can  be  more  dis- 
honorable !  He  is  so  kind  that  I  have  no  excuse  for 
harshness,  for  he  loves  me,  though  on  account  of  what 
quality  I  puzzled  my  mind  to  conceive.  Dear  Belle,  if 
you  still  care  for  a  broken-hearted  girl,  come  and  see 
me!" 

Impulsive  Mrs.  Wyllis  lost  no  time  in  complying 
with  this  request,  and  the  warmth  with  which  the  two 
women  embraced  each  other  settled  all  doubt  in  the 
minds  of  both. 

"  Let  the  past  go,"  was  Mrs.  Wyllis'  verdict,  when 


•MB  KDT9  01  MATBDCOVT.  HI 

Cora  began  explanations  of  her  letter.  "  From  now 
on,  my  darling,  nothing  shall  separate  us." 

Mr.  Johnson  was  much  pleased,  when  he  came 
home  to  dinner,  to  find  Mrs.  Wyllis  there. 

"  Cora  has  recovered  very  slowly  from  her  illness,** 
he  said,  "  and  seems  averse  to  society.  I  have  hesi- 
tated to  urge  her  while  she  continues  so  slight  and 
pale,  but  you  will  effect  a  cure.  Stay  as  long  as  you 
can  ;  or,  better  yet,  take  her  down  to  Newport,  where 
the  sea  air  will  surely  prove  beneficial  to  her.  I  will 
run  over  often  and  see  that  nothing  is  wanted." 

So  Cora  went  to  Newport.  She  established  herself 
with  Belle  in  the  Johnson  villa,  which  was  in  a  very 
quiet  place,  a  little  removed  from  the  centre.  She 
wanted  no  excitement,  and  for  her  sake  Belle  was 
willing  to  forego  her  favorite  pleasures.  Mr.  Johnson 
sent  them  a  pair  of  gentle  ponies,  which  they  drove 
daily  on  the  avenues.  Many  a  man  of  the  world 
paused  to  look  at  the  two  handsome  women,  one  aK 
color,  the  other  fair  as  alabaster,  as  they  drove  quietly 
along  in  the  early  evening. 

"  By  Jove !  there's  a  pair  of  beauties !"  was  the 
common  exclamation. 

A  species  of  quiet  contentment  came  into  Cora's 
life  while  she  and  Belle  lived  thus  together,  broken 
only  by  the  visits  of  Mr.  Johnson.  The  lawyer  usually 
came  on  Saturday  evening  and  remained  until  Mon- 
day morning,  and  the  young  wife's  spirits  always  feh 
perceptibly  as  the  time  of  his  advent  drew  near. 
When  he  had  gone  Cora  would  throw  herself  into 
Belle's  arms,  crying,  "  Now,  darling,  I  am  yours 
agair  !"  And  when  Friday  night  came  she  would  say 
with  a  shudder,  as  Belle  folded  her  to  he;  heart, 
"To-morrcw!" 


91€  tSTl  mm  OF 

Inexperienced  as  he  was,  Mr.  Johnson  had  no  su»« 
picion  of  the  way  his  wife  regarded  him.  He  thought 
her  merely  shy  and  believed  the  shrinking  from  his 
presence  a  natural  exhibition  of  feminine  modesty. 
Instead  of  affronting,  it  chanced  him.  His  wife's  face 
was  handsome,  her  manner  gentle  and  her  appearance 
unexceptionable.  She  would  learn  to  show  affection 
more  fully  in  time.  She  had  admitted  that  she  did 
not  love  him,  when  she  accepted  his  proposal.  He 
would  do  all  he  could  to  warm  that  delicate  flower 
into  life  and  he  believed  it  would  yet  grow  spontane- 
ously. He  went  on  his  way,  contented  because 
ignorant. 

Very  often  Cora's  thoughts  would  revert  to  Jack 
Elton.  She  reflected  with  bitterness  on  his  refusal  to 
accept  her,  when,  with  the  supremest  effort  of  her  life, 
she  brought  herself  to  beg  that  favor  at  his  hands. 
With  what  high  scorn  he  threw  her  back  upon  her 
scarce-wedded  husband,  reminding  her  of  the  vows  she 
took  in  that  unhappy  hour !  She  could  not  under- 
stand a  love  like  that.  For  Jack,  she  would  have 
braved  the  sneers  of  the  world  and  the  stings  of  her 
own  conscience.  He  had  no  such  sentiment  He 
could  let  her  wait  for  months  without  a  word  from  him 
and  then  appear  at  the  one  moment  when  his  presence 
must  bring  the  greatest  torture. 

And  yet — with  all  these  bitter  thoughts  passing 
continually  through  her  mind — Cora  loved  Jack  Elton 
•till.  Yes,  loved  him  more  madly  than  ever  before. 
The  words  of  the  old  gypsy  frequently  occurred  to 
her: 

'<  You  sh*ll  lie  in  his  arms.     You  sh&U  lit  u^n  his  M." 

Badly  as  the  prophecy  seemed  to  have  turned  out, 
it  still  haunted  her.  She  believed  that  somehow  it 


117 

would  yet  come  true.     Oae  day  she  told  Bel  e  about 
\t 

"  But,"  said  her  astonished  friend,  "  you  can't  eater- 
tain  such  ideas  new,  Cora.  You  are  married." 

Cora  lifted  her  dark  eyes,  seeming  darker  than  ever 
now,  in  contrast  to  her  pure  complexion. 

"  Can't  I,  Belle  ?  That  shows  how  little  you  know 
me.  It  may  also  show  how  little  I  deserve  your  friend- 
ship.  Wife  or  no  wife,  I  would  follow  Jack  to  the  end 
of  the  world  if  he  asked  me.  It  is  my  love  for  him 
that  makes  this  union  seem  so  terrible.  I  belong  to 
Jack.  When  I  resign  myself  to  another,  I  feel  that 
there  is  the  crime,  there  the  infidelity.  I  can't  help  it, 
Belle.  It  grows  stronger  every  hour." 

The  prudent  Mrs.  Wyllis  thought  it  her  duty  to 
Demonstrate  against  these  expressions.  Having  secured 
a  husband  of  good  standing — and  reasonable  means — 
a  woman,  she  said,  should  be  careful  not  to  jeopardize 
her  position.  Nobody  could  be  more  considerate  than 
Mr.  Johnson.  It  was  not  necessary  for  Cora  to  develop 
a  romantic  attachment  for  her  husband,  but  she  should 
give  him  no  cause  for  jealousy.  To  entertain  a  readi- 
ness to  elope  at  a  given  signal  with  another  man,  espec- 
Ully  one  comparatively  poor  and  obscure,  seemed  to 
Belle  the  height  of  folly,  and  she  told  Cora  so. 

"  You  will  outgrow  it,  dear,"  she  said,  in  conclusion. 
**  Life  is  a  serious  thing  for  a  woman.  Once  settled  in 
a  comfortable  position  as  regards  money — as  regards 
money — she  should  look  well  to  her  steps." 

"  It  matters  little,"  Cora  replied,  "  what  I  might  be 
trilling  to  do,  when  the  man  I  love  is  thousands  cf 
miles  away  in  geographical  distance  and  millions  in 
sentiment.  But,  Belle,  are  you  really  as  highly  moral 
as  your  expressed  views  would  iadkate  ?  Would  you 


SIS 


smother  all  heart  feeling  and  give  yourself  coolly  fo* 
life  to  one  for  whom  you  could  never  care  ?  I  did  not 
think  it  of  you." 

Belle  smiled  curiously. 

"  I  know  what  you  thought— or,  at  least,  what  Mr 
Elton  wanted  you  to  think.  I  am  not  sure  what  folly  1 
might  perpetrate,  if  my  heart,  as  you  call  it,  got  the 
better  of  my  judgment.  Marriage  is  a  serious  busi- 
ness. I  never  regarded  it  sentimentally.  Claude, 
luckily  for  him,  takes  a  similar  view.  He  is  enjoying 
himself  in  Europe,  to  judge  by  the  length  of  his  stay, 
and  I  am  enjoying  myself  here.  How  much  wiser  than 
for  us  to  be  dissolved  in  tears  at  our  separation,  like 
the  heroes  and  heroines  in  novels.  Now,  if  Claude 
wants  a  flirtation  there — and  nothing  else  would  keep 
him,  of  that  I  am  certain — let  him  have  it.  If  I  want 
one  here,  you  may  be  sure  it  will  not  be  of  a  nature  to 
gain  publicity.  I  don't  know  whether  he  would  care 
or  not,  but  I  will  never  give  him  a  chance  to  charge  it 
to  me." 

Cora  listened  with  interest 

"  You  would  '  flirt,'  then,  if  you  wanted  to  ?"  she 
asked. 

Her  friend  laughed  at  the  serious  way  in  which  she 
put  the  question. 

"  If  I  wanted  to  very  badly,  yes.  But  it  would  be 
a  mild  type  of  flirtation,  I  think,  as  my  disposition 
does  not  favor  anything  very  savage  in  that  direction. 
Certainly  I  would  never  compromise  myself.  You 
know,  perhaps,  that  the  chief  of  the  commandments  i» 
of  modern  origin — Don't  get  found  out." 

Cora  shook  her  head. 

"  You  don't  know  what  love  is  !"  she  said,  soberly. 

"It  must  be  a  very  unpleasant  thing,  jidging  by 


On   KUTD   CT  KATKIMOVT.  US 

the  way  it  affects  you,"  laughed  Belle.  "  It  seems  but 
yesterday  when  I  told  you  what  I  had  discovered  ol 
Mr.  Elton's  feelings,  as  we  lay  in  bed  that  morning  at 
your  house.  Don't  you  remember  ?  I  said  the  time 
would  come  when  Jack  would  fold  you  in  his  arms,  as  I 
was  doing,  and  kiss  away  your  blushes  ;  and  you  cried 
out,  like  a  frightened  baby,  *  Oh,  Belle,  that's  AWFUL  !'  " 

Cora  acknowledged  the  correctness  of  the  reminis- 
cence. 

"  I  remember  how  it  frightened  me  to  think  of  it," 
she  said.  "  Love  was  hardly  born  in  my  heart  then. 
Now  I  would  give  the  rest  of  my  days  to  lie  for  out 
hour  in  those  dear  arms.  Yes,  I  could  die  happy 
there !" 

Mrs.  Wyllis  tried  to  rally  her. 

"  You  would  be  far  from  content  with  death  undei 
.hose  conditions,  I  fear,"  she  said. 

"  It  would  be  preferable  to  life  under  my  present 
circumstances,"  responded  Cora.  "The  only  thing  I 
can  conceive  of  to  make  existence  bearable  would  be 
to  have  Mr.  Johnson  take  a  trip  to  the  Antipodes. 
The  very  thought  that  he  is  coming  here  always  gives 
me  a  cold  shiver.  When  the  summer  ends  and  I  have 
to  return  to  New  York,  he  will  be  with  me  constantly 
There  will  be  no  escape  !  How  can  I  be  happy  with 
that  prospect  ever  before  me  ?" 

A  tremor  passed  through  the  slif  nc  frame  at  the 
unpleasant  thought. 

In  spite  of  all,  however,  Coi«s  physical  health 
improved  at  Newport.  A  bit  of  color  came  into  her 
face  and  her  form  grew  rounder  <ts  midsummer  passed. 
To  please  Belle  she  joined  seveval  yachting  parties,  in 
some  of  which  Mr.  Johnson  paa  ticipated.  The  people 
she  met  considered  the  young  bride  very  "interesting,' 


280  on  xnro  c 

and  invitations  to  receptions,  dinners  and  hops  began 
to  come  in  small  cart-loads.  Had  she  chosen  she 
might  have  become  "  the  thing,"  but  Cora  shrank 
from  too  much  society.  The  few  hops  she  attended 
were  in  response  t6  her  husband's  urgent  requests, 
At  one  of  them  she  danced  with  a  young  naval  officer* 
Lieutenant  Fred  Stanhope,  who  alone  of  all  she  met 
managed  to  interest  her. 

"I  arrived  from  Germany  last  week,"  said  the 
lieutenant,  eyeing  her  narrowly.  "  I  believe  you  have 
friends  there." 

She  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 

"  Mr.  Claude  Wyllis— " 

"  Oh,  yes.  He  is  the  husband  of  my  most  intimate 
friend." 

"  And  Mr.  Elton  of  the  University — " 

"I  used  to  be  acquainted  with  him,"  said  Cora, 
with  wonderful  self-possession.  "  He  was  a  Harvard 
man  and  we  lived  at  Cambridge." 

Lieutenant  Stanhope  chose  his  words  carefully. 

"  They  say  at  Freiburg  he  is  destined  to  be  a  fa- 
mous surgeon.  He  leads  in  his  class  aud  has  shown 
wonderful  ability.  He  is  the  closest  student  imagin- 
able. Nothing  else  seems  to  be  thought  worthy  of  hii 
attention." 

Cora  listened  without  betraying  herself. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  such  a  good  report  of  him," 
she  said,  in  her  ordinary  tone. 

The  lieutenant  walked  out  on  the  piazza,  humming 
%  tune  below  his  breath. 

"  Wyllis  told  me  she  was  passionately  in  love  with 
Elton,"  he  mused,  "but  she  has  evidently  adapted  her- 
self very  easily  to  circumstances.  Well— that'*  UK 
depth  of  a  woman's  love !" 


"  AJGTD  BMALL   TOU  f*  SH 

That  night  Belle  and  Cora  were  on  the  balcony  to- 
gether,  slowly  swinging  in  adjacent  hammocks,  whea 
the  clock  struck  two.  A  servant  came  to  say  that  Mr. 
Johnson  presented  his  compliments  and  feared  his 
wife  was  unaware  of  the  lateness  of  the  hour. 

"  He  will  lie  awake  till  I  come,  Belle,"  said  Cora, 
between  her  teeth.  "  Do  you  know,  dear,  I  think  some 
day  I  shall  get  a  pistol  and  kill  him!" 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

"AND  SHALL  YOU?" 

Before  the  Newport  season  ended  a  new  terror 
came  to  the  young  wife.  She  was  to  experience  an- 
other phase  of  the  life  she  so  much  detested.  Not 
only  must  she  endure  the  presence  of  a  man  she  was 
growing  to  like  less  and  less ;  she  was  to  become  9. 
mother. 

The  knowledge  prostrated  her  at  first.  A  mother 
— to  that  man's  child  !  She  believed  the  bare  thought 
would  kill  her.  Ideas  of  throwing  herseif  into  the  At- 
lantic began  to  form  in  her  frenzied  brain.  Only  the 
constant  presence  of  Mrs.  Wyllis  kept  her  from  doing 
something  desperate.  To  her  husband  she  became 
for  the  first  time  outwardly  incensed,  tepelling  him 
with  harsh  epithets.  Much  alarmed,  he  brought  an 
eminent  physician  to  see  her,  who  assured  his  patron 
that  such  outbeaks  were  not  uncommon  at  such 
periods. 

"Humor  her !"  said  the  wise  pfcjrsieian.     "  L«t  her 


222  n  uro  HALL  YOU  r 

do  every  reasonable  thing  she  pleases.  Give  her  the 
associates  she  prefers  and  avoid  exciting  her  by  your 
presence.  Her  life  might  pay  the  forfeit  of  a  contrary 
course." 

The  kind-hearted  husband  besought  Mrs.  Wyllis 
cot  to  leave  his  house,  begging  her  to  do  everything 
possible  for  Cora's  comfort.  He  said  he  was  willing 
to  sacrifice  his  own  pleasure  for  his  wife's  best  good, 
and  would,  according  to  the  doctor's  advice,  absent 
himself  until  she  grew  into  a  calmer  frame  of  mind. 
It  was  decided,  however,  that  Cora  should  go  to 
Belle's  Murray  Hill  apartments  for  the  present,  as 
that  was  her  decidedly  expressed  wish  ;  and  Mr.  John- 
son soon  found  himself  walking  up  and  down  at  night 
through  his  desolate  chambers. 

"  He  sha'n't  come  here,  shall  he  ?"  cried  Cora,  hys- 
teiically,  when  she  found  herself  in  Belle's  hotel. 

"No,  dear,"  replied  Mrs.  Wyllis.  "We  will  keep 
widow's  hall,  with  no  horrid  men  to  molest  or  make  it 
afraid.  Even  if  Claude  comes  home  I  will  send  him 
out  to  look  for  lodgings.  We  will  be  two  lone  womea 
and  any  man  who  darrs  attempt  to  intrude  on  us 
will  do  it  at  his  peril !" 

Belle's  bright  sayings  helped  to  cheer  Cora,  but 
ihe  could  not  blot  out  the  Fact  which  stared  her  in 
the  face.  She  did  not  want  a  child  whose  father  she 
detested. 

"If  it  was  Jack's  how  gladly  I  would  welcome  it !" 
the  found  herself  thinking,  wickedly. 

Jessie,  who  had  been  sent  to  a  select  boarding 
school,  was  permitted  to  come  and  see  her  sister  at 
the  brief  November  vacation.  During  the  summci 
intermission,  Cora  had  felt  that  she  could  not  bear  it, 
and  the  child  had  spent  the  time  at  the  mountains  to 


"  AHD  AHAIX   TOU  P*  138 

company  with  some  school  friends.  But  now  Cera 
began  to  long  for  her  little  sister,  and  she  was  brought 
to  Murray  Hill.  She  was  now  fourteen  years  old  and 
of  good  size  for  her  age — a  handsome  girl  who  had 
learned  rapidly  everything  except  politeness. 

"  Where's  old  Johnson  ?"  was  her  query,  as  soon  as 
she  bad  kissed  Cora. 

"  He's  at  his  own  house,"  interposed  Belle.  "  These 
rooms  are  mine.  Cora  is  visiting  me  here  and  we  al- 
low no  masculine  individual  to  step  over  our  threshold." 

"Oh,  isn't  that  elegant!"  cried  Jessie.  "I  wish  the 
whole  world  was  that  way.  The  men  make  all  the 
trouble  there  is  in  it !" 

"That's  a  very  sage  remark  for  a  young  lady  of 
fourteen,"  smiled  Mrs.  Wyllis. 

"They  do,  though  !"  reiterated  the  child.  "Look  at 
our  house  in  Cambridge  !  Weren't  we  always  nappy 
till  these  Eltons  and  Johnsons  came  prowling  around? 
I  could  bite  'em  both" — she  snapped  her  teeth  to- 
gether, viciously — "  and  Jack's  the  worst  of  the  two, 
I'd  like  to  see  any  man  talking  love  to  me  '" 

Mrs.  Wyllis  had  to   smile  at  Jessie's  earnestness. 

"  You  go  too  far,  my  child,"  she  said.  "  Men  art 
necessary  evils  in  this  world,  and  they  must  be  toler- 
ated, to  a  certain  extent" 

"  No,  they're  not !"  retorted  Jessie,  defiantly. 
"  They're  of  no  earthly  use  !  I  don't  see  what  God 
made  'em  for." 

It  did  Cora  more  good  than  anything  else  to  have 
Jessie  there.  It  seemed  to  take  her  back,  in  a  sense,  to 
her  childhood.  She  loved  the  task  of  braiding  the 
girl's  hair,  putting  on  her  ribbons  and  seeing  that  her 
dresses  fitted  well.  Then  Jessie,  who  really  was  very 
fond  of  her  sistm-.  would  take  down  Cora's  tressea, 


184  "  AND   SJULLL   TOUf 

bru&hing  and  rearranging  them,  chatting  meanwhile  of 
her  school,  which,  in  spite  of  certain  drawbacks,  she 
liked  extremely  well.  It  would  have  brightened  » 
paler  cheek  than  Cora's  to  hear  the  child  rattle  oa 
about  the  principals  and  teachers,  giving  to  each  a  pel 
cognomen,  indicative  of  some  peculiarity  of  feature  or 
disposition.  The  girls  of  the  school  also  came  in  for 
their  share  of  criticism,  with  the  exception  of  two  or 
three,  who  were  the  special  favorities  of  the  narratoi 
and  therefore  exempt. 

Jessie  raised  Cora's  spirits  so  much  that  sh«  was 
twice  induced,  during  her  stay,  to  attend  the  theatre 
and  seemed  much  benefited  by  the  diversion.  On  the 
second  evening,  Lieutenant  Stanhope,  who  happened 
to  be  in  the  house,  descried  the  party,  and  came  to 
spend  a  few  minutes  between  acts  in  their  box. 

"  I  hope  your  husband  was  quite  well  when  you  last 
heard  from  him,"  he  said,  politely,  to  Mrs.  Wyllis. 

"  Quite  so,"  she  responded,  without  pausing  in  her 
occupation  of  pointing  out  distinguished  persons  in 
the  house  to  Jessie  and  answering  the  child's  numerous 
questions. 

"  I  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Elton,  yesterday,"  he  said, 
in  a  low  voice,  to  Cora. 

She  turned  on  him  with  a  quick  motion. 

M  Why  do  you  tell  me  that  ?" 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment.  She  was  jrowng 
more  beautiful  every  day.  Wild  thoughts  surged 
through  the  naval  officer's  brain.  Might  it  not  be 
possible  for  him  to  obtain  this  lovely  creatnre  for  him* 
•elf? 

"Do  you  think  I  don't  know,"  he  said,  meaningly, 
*  of  yeur  old  attachment  to  my  friend  Eltoa  ?  You  CM 


"  AMD  UALL  TO?  T  £36 

hardly  be  indifferent  to  the  prosperity  of  a  man  c« 
whom  you  once  gave  your  lent  /" 

As  she  cast  down  her  eyes  and  made  na  reply,  h« 
added: 

"  Forgive  me,  if  I  have  said  too  much.  I  thought 
you  would  like  to  hear  of  him." 

"  Go  on,"  she  whispered. 

"  He  will  finish  in  two  years  the  course  that  usually 
occupies  three.  Next  summer  he  expects  to  return  to 
America.  A  professorship  in  the  Medical  School  will 
undoubtedly  be  tendered  him  soon  after." 

She  listened  with  great  interest.     Then  she  said  : 

"  Is  he — do  you  think — happy  ?" 

Lieutenant  Stanhope  leaned  nearer  to  her. 

"  It  is  a  strange  coincidence.  He  asked  me  ia  his 
letter  the  same  question  of  you." 

She  started  violently. 

"He  referred  to  me  in  his  letter  to  j**.'  Why 
should  he?" 

"  Because  I  wrote  him  that  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
meeting  you  at  Newport." 

"  And  what,"  she  said,  dreamily,  "  shall  you  answer 
him  ?" 

"  I  shall  tell  him,  '  Nof  "  replied  the  lieutenant. 

The  curtain  had  risen  on  another  act  and  the  atten- 
tion of  Mrs.  Wyllis  and  Jessie  was  riveted  on  the  stage. 
Lieutenant  Stanhope  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  where 
he  was  invisible  to  the  people  in  the  house,  and  Cora 
continued  to  talk  with  him  a  little  longer. 

"  You  can  do  me  a  favor  if  you  mention  my  name 
to  Mr.  Elton,  by  saying  nothing  of  my  association 
with"— she  indicated  Mrs.  Wyllis.  "He  doesm't  like 
to." 

The  lieutenant  bowed  profoundly. 


1S€  u  AXD  IXALL    TOT  ?'" 

••  Any  request  from  you  to  me  will  be  equal  to  a 
command." 

"  He  has  no  reason — it  is  a  mere  whim — but  hit 
prejudices  are  strong." 

"  Does  she  expect  her  husband  soon  ?'  inquired  the 
lieutenant,  in  the  same  low  tone. 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  She  needn't,"  he  said.  "  He  is  otherwise  engaged. 
Quite  infatuated.  It  looks  like  a  long  stay." 

She  wondered  why  she  listened  to  this  man,  when 
he  ventured  on  such  a  theme.  It  was  such  a  little 
while  ago  that  she  would  have  risen  with  burning 
cheeks  and  bade  him  quit  the  box.  But  what  did  it 
matter  ?  He  knew  she  had  loved  Jack,  and  that  she 
loved  him  still,  though  a  wife.  There  could  be  nothing 
to  sink  her  lower  in  his  estimation. 

"  Who  is  it  ?"  she  asked,  calmly. 

"An  opera  singer — a  most  entrancing  beauty — 
destined,  they  say,  to  achieve  the  first  rank.  She  is 
only  eighteen,  but  her  singing  has  attracted  wide 
attention.  Wyllis  has  given  her  what  she  needs,  an 
influential  friend.  Talent,  and  even  beauty  would 
have  been  of  no  avail  without  influence." 

Cora  intimated  by  a  motion  of  her  head  that  Belle 
«ust  not  hear  this. 

"  It  would  make  no  difference,"  he  smiled,  showing 
his  evenly  arranged  teeth.  "  She  is  not  sentiments;. 
Nobody  is,  nowadays,  hardly.  I  only  know  two  pe*  - 
tons  who  are  much  so." 

As  she  looked  at  him  inquiringly,  he  explained  : 

"  Mr.  Elton  and  you." 

She  did  not  dispute  his  statement. 

"  He  caaie  across  the  ocean  just  too  late,  I  heard,0 
•aid  he.  "  He  had  a  conversation  with  you  that  night 


"  AMD  ULtLL   YOU?"  22? 

1  have  the  greatest  curiosity  to  know  what  he  said. 
He  is  so  strange  !" 

The  wonder  that  she  listened  to  this  a&a— that 
she  answered  him — grew  on  the  young  wife,  but  sht 
found  a  fascination  in  it. 

"  He  told  me,  as  I  had  taken  vows,  to  be  faithful  to 
them,"  she  whispered,  in  a  voice  scarcely  audible. 

Lieutenant  Stanhope  learned  twrer  till  his  breath 
fanned  her  cheek : 

"  And  shall  you  ?" 

She  turned  abruptly  away  and  watched  the  scene 
on  the  stage.  The  lieutenant  leaned  back  in  the 
shadow  and  watched  her.  Her  beauty  appealed  to  his 
senses  ;  the  evident  sadness  of  her  wedded  life  made 
him  long  for  her  confidence.  He  could  see  her  profile 
as  she  bent  forward.  How  lovely  it  was  !  What  a 
supple,  willowy  form — ah  !  A  suspicion  flashed  upon 
his  brain.  Could  it  be  possible  !  Absurd  !  And  yet, 
why  not  ? 

By  some  mysterious  divination  she  felt  his  thoughts 
and  rearranged  her  sealskin  garment,  which  had  bee» 
thrown  carelessly  from  her  shoulders.  It  was  warm 
in  the  theatre.  Why  did  she  do  that — unless  ! 

The  green  curtain  dropped  and  Lieutenant  Stan- 
hope escorted  the  ladies  to  their  carriage.  He  offered 
his  arm  to  Cora  and  she  took  it.  He  said  a  pleasaat 
good-night  and  was  gone 

Half -an-hour  later  Mrs.  Wyllis  stopped  in  ttte  midst 
of  her  disrobing  to  say  to  Cora  : 

"  Well,  my  dear,  you  have  begun  well  P* 

As  Cora  looked  up  inquiringly,  she  added  : 

"  With  Lieutenant  Stanhope." 

"What  did  I  do  that  1  should  not  have  do**?1* 


228  "AND  SHALL,  YOU!* 

asked  Cora.  "I  said  very  little  to  him.  You  knoflp 
he  was  introduced  to  me  at  Newport" 

"  He  is  the  most  noted  libertine  in  New  York,"  said 
Belle. 

"Yet  you,  who  knew  it,  did  nothing  to  warn  me,** 
replied  Cora,  soberly. 

Belle  threw  her  arms  about  her  in  the  old,  impul- 
sive way. 

"Do  you  think  I  care,  you  darling!  I  love  to  see 
you  amuse  yourself!  Only,  as  you  are  such  an 
amateur  sportswoman,  I  was  surprised  to  see  you  take 
such  big  game.  Take  my  advice,  dear,  and  try  some 
of  the  little  ones  first." 

**  He  seems  a  gentleman,"  said  Cora. 

«  Oh  !— to  be  sure  !  They  all  do  !  I  think  it  would 
have  given  your  husband  a  chill  though,  to  see  him 
there,  talking  to  you  so  confidentially,  through  a  whole 
act  Mr.  Johnson  doesn't  go  out  much  in  the  world, 
but  he  ought  to  have  heard  of  Stanhope." 

"Belle,"  cried  Cora,  impatiently,  "we  were  not  to 
introduce  Mr.  Johnson's  name  here  !  You  know  how 
much  I  dislike  it ! " 

"  How  Lieutenant  Stanhope  would  love  to  hear 
that!"  exclaimed  Belle,  still  holding  Cora  in  her 
embrace.  "  It  would  give  him  courage  and  hope.  To 
«lightly  alter  Byron  : 

1  A  husband  who  is  not  at  all  in  unity 
With  his  young  wife,  a  time  and  opportunity.' 

G'/en  the  first,  your  enterprising  roue  thinks  It  easy 
to  find  the  other  two  requisites.  Stanhope,  unless 
people  lie  about  him,  has  broken  a  score  of  hearts  of 
greater  or  lesser  softness.  Why  not  yours  ?  Are  you 


THE 


DUTIES   OF   MATERNITY  TAKE   PRECEDENCE.    229 


»$o  sure,  my  dear,  that  you  couM  never  forget,  as  so 
many  of  your  sex  have  done  before  you,  the  proprie- 
ties of  life  ?  " 

Cora  did  not  look  at  Belle,  but  beyond  her. 

"  There  is  one  man  for  whom  I  could  forget  every*.* 
thing  —  but  not  this  Stanhope.  He  has  no  attractions 
for  me—  or  rather  had  none  until  you  suggested  that 
he  might  be  unpleasant  to  another  person.  That 
would  be  worth  something." 

A  few  minutes  later  she  said  :  "  Belle,  if  the  time 
should  ever  come  when  I  did  —  of  course,  I  never  shall-** 
but  if  I  ever  did  —  " 

**I  understand,  darling." 

"Would  you  love  me  just  as  well  as  you  do  now  ?  * 

Belle  hugged  her  to  her  breast. 

**I  am  not  sure  I  should  not  love  you  better  I  n  she 
cried,  warmly.  **  I  do  so  like  people  who  are  human  /** 


CHAPTER  XXV. 
••THE  DUTIES  OF  MATERNITY  TAKE  PRECEDENCE." 

Cora's  baby  was  a  boy.  Its  father,  who  iiad  begun 
ic  think  marriage  a  failure,  was  greatly  rejoiced.  The 
child  was  born  in  the  Thirty-third  Street  residence, 
to  which  Mrs.  Wyllis  had  with  difficulty  persuaded  the 
wife  to  return  in  season. 

"You  must ! "  she  said  firmly  "I  will  go  with  you, 
if  you  desire,  and  we  will  exclude  masculinity  as  much 
as  possible.  If  you  are  ready  to  throw  your  husoand 
overboard — and  a  nice  time  this  would  be  for  such  » 


130  na  DUTIM  or  MATKBHTTT  TAXM 

proceeding — you  caa\  announce  it  to  him  and  the  rest 
of  the  world  by  refusing  to  enter  his  house.  No,  my 
dear,  you  must  swallow  your  preferences  and  go> 
feome." 

The  young  mother  passed  through  the  ordeal  much 
as  thousands  of  other  young  mothers  have  done.  She 
was  ill  enough,  God  knows  !  but  she  came  out  all  right 
Her  sharpest  pain  was  when  her  husband  was  ushered 
into  the  room  to  take  his  first  peep  at  the  speck  in  the 
nurse's  arms.  After  inspecting  it  he  came  to  bend  over 
Cora's  bed  and  kiss  her.  She  shut  her  eyes  tightly 
and  the  doctor  touched  Mr.  Johnson  on  the  sleeve. 

"  My  darling  !"  was  all  the  lawyer  whispered,  as  he 
softly  withdrew.  No  words  could  have  cut  her  deeper. 

She  made  grimaces  when  obliged  to  nurse  the  little 
fellow.  She  looked  on  him  with  ill  concealed  dislike  ; 
and  yet  she  felt  an  alarm,  several  days  after,  when  he 
cried  very  hard  and  the  nurse  said  something  must  ail 
him. 

They  called  him  Willie,  after  an  uncle  of  his  father. 
Belle  pronounced  him  a  very  pretty  boy,  after  survey- 
ing him  under  various  favorable  circumstances,  but 
she  had  not  enough  love  for  children  to  care  to  fondle 
kim  much.  Mrs.  Ashleigh,  who  had  lately  returned  after 
a  year  in  California,  came  and  looked  at  him  with  her 
accustomed  dignity.  In  her  eyes  he  was  a  great  future 
probability.  She  found  herself  wondering  whether  he 
would  prefer  the  Law  or  the  Church,  in  both  of  which 
fields  the  Johnsons  had  been  distinguished  for  gener- 
ations. 

"  How  long  shall  I  have  to  nurse  this  child  ?" 
Cora  asked  of  Dr.  Livingstone,  at  the  end  of  a  fort* 
night 


WOB  DCTIKa  07   MATEKNTTY   TAXI   PMCEDWCHL    231 

14  That  is  for  you  to  say,"  responded  the  physician, 
politely.  "The  longer  the  better,  for  him." 

"  Is  it  necessary  ?"  she  asked. 

"  No,"  he  replied.  "  The  boy  would  probably  live 
on  a  bottle.  Still,  I  would  think  a  while  before  I  gave 
it  up,  if  I  were  in  your  place." 

As  soon  as  she  was  able,  they  returned  to  the  New- 
port cottage,  where  the  season  was  in  full  blast  again. 
A  nurse  and  an  extra  servant  were  added  to  last  year's 
occupants  of  the  villa.  Cora  and  Belle  began  to  drive 
out  as  of  yore.  People  recognized  them  again  and 
men  told  the  story  to  each  other  : 

"Johnson's  wife — the  big  lawyer,  you  know. 
They  say  she  doesn't  care  much  for  him,  but  there's 
a  baby  at  their  cottage.  There  was  a  Harvard  man 
mixed  up  with  her,  but  I  think  that  has  blown  over 
Stanhope — the  dashing  naval  officer — hung  around 
there  early  in  the  winter,  but  the  baby  drove  him  off. 
Ha,  ha !  The  other  is  Claude  Wyllis'  wife— Wyllis, 
the  millionaire.  He  is  over  in  Europe  somewhere, 
hanging  on  to  the  skirts  of  a  singer  or  actress,  or 
something  of  the  kind.  She  stops  here.  Is  she 
giddy  ?  /  don't  know.  She  looks  demure  enough. 
One  never  can  tell." 

Lieutenant  Stanhope's  war-ship  had  been  in  the 
Mediterranean  most  of  the  winter  and  he  had  been 
with  it  when  not  flitting  about  among  the  most  inter- 
esting European  capitals  ;  but  one  day  it  ste&med 
into  Newport  harbor,  a»d  the  next  he  called  at  the 
Johnson  villa.  The  ladies  were  out  driving  when  he 
arrived,  and  he  passed  most  of  the  intervening  time 
inspecting  the  baby,  for  whom  he  immediately 
inquired,  and  giving  the  nurse  various,  sage  maxims  in 


232   THE   DUTIES   «F  MATERNITY   TAKE    PRECEDENCE, 

regard  to  its  care,  culled  from  his  extensive  bacheiof 
experience. 

"  Be  careful  what  you  give  it  to  eat,"  he  said,  as  a 
final  injunction.  "  Millions  of  babies  are  killed  every 
year  by  injudicious  diet."  , 

"  But  Mrs.  Johnson  nurses  the  boy,  sir,  and  hd! 
never  has  anything  e>.se  ! "  exclaimed  the  woman. 

Stanhope  walked,  whistling,  to  the  farther  end  of 
the  piazza,  and  inspected  his  vessel,  plainly  visible 
from  there. 

When  the  ladies  returned  from  thei/-  drive,  the 
lieutenant  thought  they  were  not  displeased  to  see 
him.  He  felt  sure  Mrs.  Wyllis  entertained  that  feel- 
ing, but  Cora  said  so  little  he  was  in  some  doubt  in 
her  case. 

"  There  is  hardly  any  one  here  yet  worth  dancing 
with,"  said  Belle,  "  and  you  will  be  a  Godsend.  1 
shall  begin  to  think  of  going  to  the  assemblies." 

Stanhope  spoke  to  Cora  : 

"  Shall  you  also  be  there  ?" 

Then,  as  she  hesitated,  he  added  : 

"  I  forgot ;  the  duties  of  maternity,  of  course,  taka 
precedence." 

Belle  laughed  at  this  and  Cora  reddened  a  little. 
She  did  not  know  what  to  say.  At  this  unfortunate 
luncture  the  nurse  came  to  signal  her.  It  was  evident 
that  the  baby  was  waiting  for  its  evening  meal.  She 
sxcused  herself  in  so  much  perplexity  of  manner  that 
Belle  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in  preserving  her 
countenance  till  she  was  gone. 

"  Oh,  these  young  mothers,  they  make  me  laugh  '." 
she  said,  at  the  end  of  a  fit  of  merriment.  "  How  non- 
sensical it  is !  As  if  she  hadn't  a  right  to  nurse  that 


THB  DFTBES  ©P   KATBBNITY  TAKE  PRECEDENCE.   233 

baby  without  acting  as  if  she  were  going  to  violate 
the  Public  Statutes  ! " 

Lieutenant  Stanhope,  who  had  remained  quite 
grave,  hastened  to  partially  agree  with  her.  , 

"  Nevertheless,"  he  added,  "there  is  a  charm  in 
that  very  bashfulness  that  passes  explanation.  You 
women  never  know  in  what  your  fascination  over  men 
consists.  Much  of  it  is  in  little  things  like  that,  which 
are  apt  to  cause  you  annoyance.  I  have  never  seen  a 
young  mother  with  a  babe  at  her  breast,  but  I  have 
felt  like  falling  down  and  worshipping.  The  paintings 
and  statues  of  the  Madonna  and  Child  have  made 
more  Christian  proselytes  than  all  the  terrors  of 
Hades." 

Belle  elevated  her  eyebrows  in  comic  admiration. 

"You  are  a  sentimental  fellow,"  she  said,  "full  of 
moods,  but  the  spectacle  of  which  you  speak  would 
hardly  prevent  you,  I  think,  from  running  off  with  the 
wife  and  mother,  if  she  happened  to  be  attractive. 
Don't  talk  to  me  ! " 

He  protested  vigorously  against  the  charge,  declar- 
ing that  he  had  been  much  abused. 

"  All  right ! "  she  said,  pleasantly.  "  I  was  only 
going  to  take  the  opportunity  to  say  that,  while  you 
are  very  welcome  here,  you  will  waste  your  valuable 
time  if  it  is  devoted  to  Mrs.  Johnson.  She  is  not 
vulnerable — in  your  quarter." 

"  I  never  can  fathom  you  women,"  he  replied. 
**You  always  credit  us  with  sinister  designs  and  fre- 
quently put  the  first  wrong  idea  in  our  heads.  Let 
me  assure  you  again  that  you  are  wholly  incorrect  if 
you  think  I  entertain  an  improper  sentiment  towards 
Mrs,  Johnson.  By  the  way,  I  believe  I  have  seen  y*ut 


984  m  wnm  of  MAI 

husband  since  you  have.  Would  you  fike  to  hear  aboat 
him?" 

Mrs.  Wyllis  looked  directly  into  his  eyes  and  spoke 
with  a  meaning  which  it  was  impossible  to  misunder- 
stand. 

"  Anything  you  think  he  would  like  you  to  tell  me 
I  would  like  to  hear.  However,  there  cannot  be  much 
that  is  news  to  me.  He  writes  every  week." 

He  felt  completely  foiled,  but  recovered  his  ground 
with  celerity. 

"  I  also  saw  Mr.  Elton.  He  is  to  come  home  this 
autumn." 

Cora  was  returning  to  her  place  in  the  group  and 
heard  the  last  sentence,  as  he  intended  she  should. 

"  He  was  looking  well,"  he  continued,  "  and  is 
destined  to  be  very  famous.  '  You  must  marry  some 
nice  girl,'  I  said  to  him,  'and  settle  down  in  New 
York.'  4  No,'  he  answered,  '  I  shall  not  marry.  I  have 
but  one  sweetheart — my  profession.'  " 

Stanhope  told  the  story  with  unusual  moderation 
and  marked  the  pallor  which  deepened  on  Mrs.  John- 
son's face  at  the  climax. 

"  Elton  was  in  a  terrible  box  there  when  he  ran  out 
•f  money  last  year,"  pursued  the  lieutenant  "  His 
pride  prevented  him  asking  any  one  to  help  him,  and 
he  actually  left  Freiburg  for  several  months.  When 
he  got  that  ten  thousand  dollars  from  Mr.  Johnson  it 
was  like  a  fortune  to  him." 

Both  ladies,  in  the  height  of  their  surprise,  cried  in 
one  breath  : 

"  From  Mr.  Johnson  !" 

"  Yes  ;  it  was  through  bis  hands  as  a  lawyer  that 
Elton's  legacy  passed.  Didn't  you  know  that ?  I  had 
«o  intention  of  revealing  a  secret.  What  great  things 


THE  DUTHi   OF  MATEBNITY  TAEB  PKUOOKTCB.   835 

hang  on  little  events  !    If  Jack  had  got  that  money  a 
week  earlier,  now — ' 

He  sprang  to  catch  Cora,  who  was  reeling  in  her 
seat,  but  she  recovered  strength  enough  to  accept 
Belle's  arm  instead.  The  housekeeper,  who  was  sum- 
moned, tenderly  escorted  her  half-fainting  mistress  to 
her  room.  Having  accomplished  all  he  expected  to  do 
on  this  occasion,  Lieutenant  Stanhope  expressed  his 
regret  at  the  inexplicable  illness  of  Mrs.  Johnson  and 
soon  after  took  his  leave. 

When  Belle  entered  Cora's  chamber  she  found  her 
in  a  hysterical  state. 

"  Do  you  believe  that  man  could  have  done  such  a 
wicked  thing  ?  Could  he  have  kept  that  money  back 
so  Jack  would  be  unable  to  get  here  ?  It  seems  too 
dreadful  to  be  possible !" 

"  We  can  easily  find  out,"  said  Belle,  soothingly, 
"  and  you  are  very  foolish  to  get  yourself  into  such  a 
state  of  excitement  over  a  mere  suspicion." 

"  If  he  did,"  sobbed  Cora,  "  I  will  never  live  with 
him  again  !  I  shall  ask  him  when  he  comes.  If  it  is 
true,  he  cannot  deny  it  to  me  !" 

"  Well,  dear,  go  to  sleep  to-night,  and  we  will  talk 
about  it  in  the  morning,"  said  Belle,  gently. 

It  was  hours  before  Cora  could  follow  the  advice. 

Two  days  must  elapse  before  her  husband  would 
arrive,  Cora's  first  thought  was  to  write  him  a  letter, 
taxing  him  with  the  deceit  She  gave  this  up,  think- 
ing it  would  be  better  to  be  present  when  he  first  knew 
of  her  suspicion  and  watch  its  effect  on  him.  Her 
next  idea  was  to  telegrap»  for  him  to  come  at  once  to 
Newport.  After  a  while  she  decided  to  wait  until  his 
ordinary  visit ;  and  when  he  actually  did  arrive,  sbe 


936      OAJTAIH  *AWUH1    OY  TEX 


found  the  courage  that  had  been  so  strong  had  all 
oozed  away. 

It  would  be  a  step  of  deep  importance  to  leave  h« 
husband.  She  began  to  realize  that.  It  would  posai 
bly  mean  going  out  into  the  cold  world,  friendless  and 
penniless.  Under  excitement,  this  seemed  preferabli 
to  life  with  a  man  who,  she  believed,  had  obtained  he? 
by  fraud.  Upon  quieter  reasoning  the  terrors  of 
poverty  appealed  to  her  judgment. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

CAPTAIN  HAWKINS,  OF    THE   KNOHTIX*   COKM. 

So  the  weeks  passed  by  at  the  Johnson  villa  with« 
out  an  open  rupture,  and  one  day  a  variation  occurred 
in  the  monotony  by  the  unexpected  advent  of  Claude 
Wyllis,  who  sprang  from  a  conveyance  upon  the  piazza 
and  threw  bis  arms  boisterously  around  his  wife's 
neck. 

"  Belle,  you  old  darling,  I  thought  I  would  surprise 
you  !"  he  said,  giving  her  half-a-dozen  hurried  kisses, 
"Looking  just  as  pretty  as  ever,  upon  my  word!  I 
don't  believe  you  have  pined  for  me  one  minute  !  And 
here's  Cora  !  Can't  kiss  her  !  I  haven't  forgotten  the 
buggy,  ha,  ha  !  Well,  how  are  you  both — and  where's 
the  blessed  baby  ?" 

He  dove  into  the  house  before  they  could  answer 
him,  and  immediately  returned  with  the  heir  of  th« 
Johnsons,  which  he  had  snatched  without 
from  the  lap  of  its  faithful  attendant 


OAPTAZH  HAWKDn,    OF  TMI 

"  The  image  of  his  pa  !"  he  cried,  brandishing  tho 
infant  aloft,  to  the  consternation  of  everybody.  "A 
Johnson,  out  and  out !  Don't  pretend,  Cora,  that 
you're  the  mother  of  this  !  There's  not  a  drop  «l 
Madison  blood  in  him,  more's  the  pity  !  How  thingi 
have  changed  since  I  went  away !  Then  you  were  a 
little,  shrinking  girl — now  you're  a  great,  bold  mother 
of  a  family !" 

Belle  and  the  nurse  rescued  the  infant  at  some 
peril,  and  Claude  was  at  last  persuaded  to  take  a  chair 
and  behave  in  a  more  sensible  manner. 

"  Come,  now,  give  an  account  of  yourself,"  said 
Mrs.  Wyllis.  "  You  have  been  gone  more  than  a  year. 
A  nice  sort  of  husband,  truly  !  What  have  you  been 
nbout  ?" 

Her  husband  threw  his  head  to  one  side,  imitating 
the  action  of  a  bird. 

"  I  have  written  you  almost  every  week,"  he  said, 
"  and,  of  course,  told  you  everything." 

"  Everything  !"  echoed  his  wife,  incredulously. 

"Well,  nearly  everything,"  he  laughed.  "There 
are  some  things  no  man  should  tell  his  better  half,  if 
he  cares  for  peace  in  the  family  ;  though,  Belle,  my 
dear,  I  think  I  could  relate  everything  I've  done  since 
I  saw  you,  verbatim  et  punctuatim,  without  endanger- 
ing the  good  feeling  which  always  prevails  between 
as." 

M  Go  on  and  relate  it,  then,"  smiled  Mrs.  WyllU, 
M  U  will  doubtless  prove  interesting." 

Claude  looked  from  his  wife  to  Cora. 

"  There  are  ladies  present,  Belle  !  you  seem  to  forget 
that.  What  I  could  tell  you  and  what  I  could  say  be* 
fore  Mrs  Tohnson  are — " 


338    OAPTAIH  MAwmrSj  or  THX  nrenrcnt 


Cora  interrupted  him,  with  a  vexed  expression  of 
countenance. 

"  You  could  say  nothing  before  me  which  would 
annoy  me  so  much  as  to  call  me  by  that  name  !" 

He  gave  a  very  impolite  whistle  and  opened  nil 
eyes  wider. 

"  You  have  not  kept  me  as  well  posted  on  import- 
tin  :  matters  as  I  have  you,"  he  said,  reproachfully,  to 
his  wife.  "  I  supposed  that  Mrs.  John  —  I  beg  pardon 
—  that  my  esteemed  friend  Cora,  was  the  happiest  little 
married  woman  this  side  of  the  sea.  With  that,  too  !" 
indicating  the  direction  in  which  nurse  had  vanished 
with  baby.  "  How  does  it  happen  ?  Tell  us,  do." 

"  Do  you  think  you  must  know  everything  that  is 
going  on  ?"  said  Belle,  using  at  the  same  time  her 
entire  code  of  private  signals  to  warn  him  that  he  was 
on  dangerous  ground.  "  There  may  be  little  misunder- 
standings between  husband  and  wife  —  " 

Cora  raised  a  hand  to  stop  her. 

"  Why  should  we  use  metaphor  before  Mr.  Wyllis  ?" 
she  asked.  "  He  must  know  sooner  or  later.  I  do  not 
like  my  husband,"  she  added,  to  Claude.  "  My  mar- 
riage is  distasteful  to  me.  I  endure  my  present  life 
with  difficulty.  That  child  is  all  that  could  hold  me 
to  it  an  hour." 

Claude's  eyes  opened  wider  yet,  as  he  heard  this 
explicit  statement. 

"I  am  surprised,"  he  said.  "I  have  known  John- 
soi>  for  years,  and  I  thought  him  a  perfect  gentle- 
man." 

"  He  is  all  that,"  responded  Cora,  quickly.  "  It  is 
not  his  fault  that  I  cannot  like  him.  I  know  HO  thing 
against  him  in  any  way,  unless  —  yes,  I  have  lately 
had  a  suspicion  of  one  wrong  thing  he  may  havr 


CAWAIH    KAWKUm,    OT  TEX   ZVanTEKB   9001. 

done.  I  wonder  if  you  could  teJ  me.  Do  you  know 
anything  about  the  legacy  which  Jack's  uncle  left 
him  ?" 

The  question  affected  Wyllis  unaccountably.  He 
stared  at  Cora  as  it  he  had  been  suddenly  detected  in 
A  questionable  transaction. 

"  You  knew— did  you  not — that  an  uncle  died  and 
left  him  ten  thousand  dollars,  which  was  conveyed  to 
him  through  Mr.  Johnson's  hands?" 

He  looked  a  little  relieved  and  said,  yes,  he  had 
heard  of  that. 

"  It  has  occurred  to  me,"  she  said,  in  troubled 
tones,  "  that  he — that  Mr.  Johnson — might  have  held 
back  that  money  until  we  were  too  near  our — marriage 
— to  make  it  possible  for  Jack  to  reach  here  in  time 
to  stop  it.  He  came  only  half-an-hour  late.  But  for 
the  breaking  of  a  car-wheel  he  would  have  been  at 
Cambridge  an  hour  earlier.  Had  he  arrived,  even 
though  I  was  dressed  for  my  wedding  with  Mr.  John- 
son, I  should  not— could  not — have  married  him.  I 
knew  my  great  mistake  when  I  saw  Jack's  face. 
That  sight,  half-an-hour  after  I  had  pledged  myself  to 
another,  made  it  impossible  for  me  to  find  happiness 
in  my  new  relation.  As  I  said,  Mr.  Johnson  has 
always  seemed  a  gentleman.  If  he  were  not  my  hus- 
band I  might  like  him  ;  but  if  he  willfully  held  bad; 
that  legacy — if  I  could  be  sure  of  it — I  would  not 
sleep  another  night  under  his  roof.  It  would  make 
me  a  participator  in  a  great  crime." 

Claude  looked  at  the  trembling  lips  and  was  glad 
he  could  relieve  the  lawyer  of  the  wife's  haunting  sus- 
picion. 

"  I  am  pleased  to  be  able  to  assure  you,"  he  said, 
"  that  Mr.  Johnson  acted  with  perfect  honor  in  that 


MO    OAFTAnr  MAWUBW,  or 


matter.  I  know  about  it  you  see,  beeause  I  was  m 
constant  correspondence  with  him.  I  went  to  Europe 
to  hunt  Jack  up,  and  tried  to  persuade  him  o  continut 
to  use  my  own  money.  Before  I  got  there,  Johnson 
had  cabled  him  enough  for  present  use — done  it  by 
telegraph,  you  know — and  he  had  started  for  America. 
If  your  husband  had  the  design  you  impute  to  him, 
he  could  reasonably  have  used  the  mail,  which  would 
have  taken  a  dozen  days  longer.  What  I  have  never 
yet  understood  is,  how  Jack  came  to  start  home  in 
such  haste.  Did  you  write  to  him  at  that  time  ?" 

"Jessie  did,"  replied  Cora,  "and  without  breathing 
a  word  to  any  of  us.  The  dear  little  girl  !  I  wish  her 
missive  had  sped  faster  !" 

Claude  looked  at  her  for  a  minute  with  awakening 
pity.  Then  he  broke  out : 

"  By  Gracious,  Cora  !  I  don't  like  to  hear  you  talk 
like  that !  You,  a  married  woman,  with  a  baby  !  It's 
— hang  it ! — it's  immoral  !" 

As  the  conversation  was  becoming  dispiriting,  Mrs. 
Wyllis  thought  it  her  duty  to  interfere. 

"  Talking  of  immoralities,  Mr.  Preacher,  how  is 
your  latest  inamorata  ?"  she  inquired. 

«  My— Goodness,  Belle  !  What  art  you  talkiag 
about  ?" 

"Oh,  I  know  very  well,"  she  responded,  with  a 
smile.  "  Shall  I  mention  her  name  ?  Frauleia — " 

He  put  his  hand  quickly  over  her  meuth. 

"You  may  be  about  to  do  injustice  to  an  excellent 
lady,"  he  said,  in  explanation  of  his  action.  "  It  is 
wrong  to  seriously  couple  such  a  word  as  you  used 
with  the  name  of  any  woman,  unless  you  have  some- 
thing like  proof." 


MA  wxnn ,  ov  m 

She  struck  his  serious  face  daintily  with  her  ivory- 
k&adled  fan. 

"  Do  you  deny,  you  wicked  man,  that  there  «  a 
fraulein — we  won't  mention  names — who  has  kept  you 
this  fifteen  months  from  your  lawful  spouse  ?  Do  y»B 
dispute  that  she  is  a  singer  in  the  Berlin  opera— and 
that  she  came  over  on  the  same  steamer  with  you  ?*' 

He  had  not  sufficient  command  of  his  features  te 
dissemble  when  she  uttered  the  last  words. 

"You  are  a  diviner!"  he  said,  admitting  every- 
thing. "  How  the  deuce  did  you  know  ?" 

"Never  mind,"  she  responded.  "You  confers  to 
all  I  charge  you  with.  Now,  are  you  not  ashamed  ?" 

She  learned  forward  and  peered  into  his  eyes,  as 
children  do  into  those  of  babies  which  they  are  trying 
to  make  laugh. 

"  I  don't  follow  your  reasoning,"  he  protested, 
placing  an  arm  around  his  wife  and  drawing  her 
towards  him.  "  You  ask  me  if  there  is  '  a  fraulein,  of 
the  opera,  who  has  kept  me  in  Europe  for  fifteen 
months,'  and  I  admit  it.  Now  you  ask  me  if  I  am  not 
ashamed,  and  I  answer  '  No  !'  What  is  there  for 
shame  in  the  divine  passion  of  Music  ?  I  am  entranced 
with  her  singing — that's  all !" 

Belle  drew  herself  away,  to  make  her  next  words 
more  impressive. 

"So  entranced  that  you  brought  her  home  with 
ynu  on  the  steamer.  Where  is  she  now  ?" 

She  made  a  comical  motion  as  if  she  would  tear  the 
singer's  eyes  out 

M  Not  in  any  of  my  pockets,  I  assure  you,"  he  re- 
SDonded,  offering  them  for  her  inspection.  "  As  te 
coming  on  the  same  steamer,  it  was  at — a  coincidence, 


•48    oiPTAnr  MAWXIBI,  or  -no  xroorm 

Th«re  were  lots  of  people  on  that  steamer.  Jack 
Elton  was  one  of  them." 

"  Jack  !"  exclaimed  Cora. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Jack,  the  disconsolate.  He  was  the 
solitary  passenger  who  spoke  to  nobody  unless  first 
spoken  to,  and  then  answered  only  in  monosyllables. 
He  is  not  like  the  boy  you  used  to  love,  Cora,  not  in 
the  least.  I  promenaded  the  decks  passing  and 
repassing  within  three  fee*  of  him,  evening  after 
evening,  with — yes,  with  a  certain  fraulein — and  he 
never  looked  toward  us  nor  uttered  a  word  !" 

To  the  surprise  of  the  entire  party  a  carriage  con- 
taining Mr.  Johnson  and  another  gentleman  drove  up 
at  this  moment.  The  other  gentleman  was  "  Captain 
Hawkins,  of  the  Engineer  Corps,"  as  the  lawyer  intro- 
duced him  to  each  in  turn. 

"And  you  are  here,  too,  Mr.  Wyllis,"  said  Mr. 
Johnson,  grasping  that  gentleman's  hand  with  warmth, 
"  Why  didn't  you  let  us  know  ?  I  only  came  mysell 
by  accident.  I  had  a  chance  to  run  over  for  a  night 
and  I  was  glad  to  improve  it." 

Claude  kept  his  eyes  on  Cora.  How  different  her 
face  had  looked  when  he  told  her  Elton  had  reached 
America  !  Now  it  bore  marks  of  actual  pain. 

Mrs.  Wyllis  set  about  entertaining  the  strange^ 
Cora  acting  as  a  mild  assistant,  while  the  talk  between 
the  lawyer  and  Claude  drifted  into  business  channels 
Mr.  Johnson  had  lately  been  engaged  on  a  great  will 
case — a  will  involving  millions — and  had  just  learned 
that  a  verdict  had  been  given  to  his  clients. 

"  Business  was  never  so  good  with  me,"  he  said, 
rubbing  his  hands  together.  "  I  have  all  I  can  attend 
to.  If  my  wife's  health  wore  better,"  he  added,  in  a 
low  tone,  "  there's  nothing  more  T  could  ask.  She  is 


OLRADf   HAWEZNg,   OF  THE  KKtDrJBB  OOJCM.    S48 

delicate  and  has  wanted  to  go  abroad.  The  baby—- 
you have  seen  my  bey,  of  course — has  kept  her  here, 
but  if  the  doctor  thinks  it  will  help  her  I  shall  let  her 
cross  over  this  fall.  She  has  been  pretty  badly."  He 
dropped  his  voice  still  lower.  "  Before  the  child  was 
born  she  got  so  nervous  I  had  to  keep  away  almost 
entirely.  She  went  to  live  at  the  Murray  Hill,  you 
know.  She  is  not  herself,  even  now,  but  I  think  she  is 
improving.  Slowly,  very  slowly,  but  a  little." 

As  the  conversation  lagged  after  this,  Wyllis  indi- 
cated the  visitor  with  a  motton  of  his  head. 

"  Who  is  he  ?" 

"  Captain  Hawkins,  of  the  Engineer  Corps,"  replied 
Mr.  Johnson.  "  Didn't  I  introduce  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  you  did  ;  but  who  is  he  ?" 

"  That's  all  I  know  about  it,"  replied  the  lawyer. 
"  That's  the  way  he  was  introduced  to  me.  He's  a 
very  pleasant  fellow  and  a  great  friend,  I  have  heard, 
of  Lieutenant  Stanhope,  of  the  Navy.  Do  you  know 
Stanhope  ?" 

Yes,  Claude  knew  him.  And  he  thought,  though 
he  did  not  say  so,  that  the  fact  was  no  particular 
recommendation  to  Captain  Hawkins,  of  the  Engineer 
Corps. 

Captain  Hawkins  took  Mrs.  Wyllis'  arm  and  began 
to  promenade  the  piazza  on  the  opposite  side.  Cora 
had  gone  in,  presumably  on  account  of  distress  signals 
from  the  nurse.  Mrs.  Wyllis  seemed  much  entertained 
with  the  gentleman's  remarks,  whatever  they  were, 
aad  their  mutual  laughter  broke  at  intervals  on  the 
air  of  the  early  evening.  The  captain  could  be 
descried,  as  he  and  his  partner  reached  the  corner 
nearest  to  the  section  occupied  by  Mr.  Jokmson  and 


944      CAPTAIN   MAWXaW,   OF   THE 

Wyllis,  beading  very  low  toward  his  fair  companion 
aad  saying  something  with  great  earnestness, 

"  Confound  him  !  He's  pretty  rapid  with  his  corn- 
quests  !"  thought  Claude,  with  a  feeling  in  his  breast 
which  had  never  found  lodgment  there  before. 

When  dinner  was  served,  Captain  Hawkins  sat  by 
Mrs.  Wyllis,  and  soon  after  leaving  the  table  Belle 
appeared  in  her  wraps,  with  the  gallant  officer  at  her 
side. 

"  We're  going  for  a  little  ride,  Claude,  dear,'*  she 
said,  sweetly.  "  The  Captain's  dog-cart  has  been  sent 
for.  We  sha'n't  be  late,  but  if  we  are,  don't  sit  up. 
Good-night,  Mr.  Johnson  !  I  suppose  you  will  retire 
early,  as  usual.  Good-night,  Cora !  Ah,  yes !  Let  me 
kiss  the  baby !" 

Claude  Wyllis  had  never  felt  in  his  life  as  he  did 
when  his  wife  stepped  into  that  dog-cart  and  drove  off 
with  Captain  Hawkins.  Mr.  Johnson  told  him  a  long 
story  of  a  great  railroad  case  that  he  had  settled,  but 
Claude  heard  him  not.  He  wondered  where  the  riders 
had  gone.  He  wondered  what  was  the  object  of  their 
ride.  He  wondered  whether  the  captain  was  leaning 
toward  Belle,  as  he  had  seen  him  on  the  piazza,  and  if 
•he  was  laughing  at  his  apparently  witty  sallies.  Per- 
haps he  had  placed  an  arm  about  her  !  Perhaps — 

Mr.  Johnson  went  to  bed,  but  Claude  sat  mere  on 
the  piazza.  It  was  eleven  o'clock  and  still  they  did 
fiot  come.  Christ ! 

Suddenly  he  became  aware  how  ridiculous  it  was 
to  sit  there.  If  they  should  see  him  he  would  look 
lice  a  spy.  He  decided  to  retire,  and  called  a  domes* 
tic.  "  No,  not  Mrs.  Wyllis'  room,"  he  said.  He  was 
tired  after  journeying  and  did  not  wish  to  be  dis- 
turbed. 


*  M  A  Htm  W  IS  A  TKBT  DUTEMnTT  TKUT •."   946 

The  room  given  him  overlooked  the  driveway.  At 
two  o'clock  he  heard  the  sound  of  wheels  and  almost 
Distantly  of  laughing  voices  also.  Captain  Hawkins 
assisted  Belle  to  alight,  holding  her  in  his  arms  much 
longer  than  was  necessary,  Claude  thought,  before 
placing  her  on  the  ground.  They  exchanged  a  few 
words  in  tones  too  low  to  be  understood.  Then  Belle 
came  into  the  house  and  the  member  of  the  Engineer 
Corps  drove  away. 

In  the  morning  Belle  found  a  letter  awaiting  her, 
stating  that  her  husband  had  been  obliged  to  run  up 
to  New  York  on  important  business — connected  with 
the  opera — and  had  hesitated  to  disturb  her  rest,  know* 
ing  that  she  retired  late. 

"  Poor  fellow  !  I  hope  it  didn't  hit  him  too  hard  !" 
she  mused,  affectionately,  as  she  read  his  note. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

MAS   >    MOTHER   IT   IS   A    VERY    DIFFERENT    THING." 

Dr.  Elton's  bell  was  hastily  pulled  early  one 
Morning  severa*  months  after  the  events  narrated  ic 
the  last  chapter.  He  had  located  himself  near  Madi- 
son Square  and  launched  at  once  into  a  practice,  the 
extent  of  which  astonished  him.  The  fame  of  the  new 
physician  grew  with  each  case  he  treated.  On  the 
particular  morning  in  question  he  entered  his  office  to 
find  Mr.  Johnson  there. 

"  I  wish  you  to  come  to  my  house,  sir,  at  ooce  !" 
exclaimed  the  lawyer,  hurriedly.  "The  baby,  my 


J44   "  AJ  A  MOTXIB  IT  II  A 

young  son,  has  broken  an  arm  by  falling  from  a  chair. 
I  have  hastened  here  in  a  carriage,  knowing  your  sue* 
cess  with  fractures." 

Dr.  Elton  thought  of  many  things  in  that  brief 
moment. 

"  Any  good  surgeon  can  set  a  baby's  arm,"  he  said, 
gravely.  "  I  have  several  important  engagements  thia 
morning." 

"  But — you  will  come !"  pleaded  the  father,  ner- 
vously. "  He  is  our  only  child,  you  know,  and  money 
is  no  object  whatever.  His  mother  is  nearly  crazed 
with  grief.  If  you — " 

"I  will  come,"  interrupted  Dr.  Elton.  "Harry," 
turning  to  his  servant,  "ask  any  callers  to  wait.  1 
shall  return  in  an  hour." 

He  put  on  his  hat  and  overcoat  and  entered  the 
carriage  with  Mr.  Johnson.  In  a  few  minutes  they 
alighted  at  the  Thirty-third  Street  residence,  where 
they  found  everybody  iu  a  highly  excited  condition. 
The  nurse,  to  whose  carelessness  the  accident  was  at- 
tributed, was  weeping  and  wringing  her  hands.  Mrs. 
Ashleigh,  who  happened  to  be  visiting  at  the  house,  was 
offering  wild  suggestions  of  no  possible  value.  Mrs. 
Wyllis,  not  as  calm  as  usual,  though  very  much  so 
compared  with  the  others,  was  trying  to  comfort  Cora, 
who  held  the  baby  in  her  arms  and  declared  that  no 
one  should  touch  it  until  the  physician  came. 

Dr.  Elton  bowed  gravely  to  the  ladies  and  then 
asked  in  the  quietest  manner  that  such  of  the  child's 
garments  as  covered  his  broken  arm  might  be  care* 
fully  removed.  Cora,  at  sight  of  him,  seemed  to  lose  all 
strength  and  resigned  the  boy  to  Belle,  who  took  his 
to  a  sofa  and,  with  the  doctor's  help,  exposed  the  in- 
jured limb.  A  sharp  cry  from  the.  baby,  followed  by 


"  Al  A  MOTHZB  IT  IS  A  YIBY  DZnraaiTTKnra."  ttt 

copious   weeping,   soon   brought  the  mother  to  the 

place, 

"  He  is  hurting  him  ! "  she  screamed. 

The  doctor  did  not  turn  toward  her,  nor  did  lie 
«uspend  his  operations,  but  he  spoke  for  the  general 
ear. 

•'  Not  more  than  is  necessary,"  he  said.  "  The  pain 
will  last  a  very  few  moments  and  it  is  better  he  should 
endure  it  than  to  take  an  anaesthetic.  I  think,  sir,"  he 
added,  to  Mr.  Johnson,  "you  would  prefer  a  brief 
interval  of  suffering  for  your  child,  to  a  limb  deformed 
for  life  ?" 

"  For  your  child  !"  thought  Cora.  "  How  coldly  he 
spoke  of  the  child  as  her  husband's  !  Was  his  mother 
nothing?" 

Dr.  Elton  wound  the  bandages  tightly  and  applied 
liniments  which  he  had  brought  with  him. 

"  Give  him  these  powders  if  he  is  very  restless, 
according  to  the  directions  I  have  written,"  he  said, 
later.  "I  will  drop  in  again  some  time  to-morrow. 
Good-day." 

The  boy's  cries  were  stilled.  He  sat  in  Mrs. 
Wyllis'  lap,  looking  curiously  at  the  big  swathings  on 
his  arm.  Mr.  Johnson's  fears  being  allayed,  he 
departed  for  his  office,  after  a  few  words  of  general 
caution.  Mrs.  Ashleigh  went  out  on  a  shopping 
expedition.  Cora  consented  to  resign  Willie  to  his 
nurse's  care  once  more,  the  poor  woman  protesting 
that  she  would  never  leave  him  again,  even  lor  a  min- 
ute. When  the  young  wife  was  alone  with  Belle  she 
gave  vent  to  her  feelings. 

"  Did  you  see  him  ?  So  cold,  so  mechanical  !  Not 
a  pleasant  word  !  Nothing  but  the  merest  formalities  ' 


MS  «A1A 

One  would  have  thought  he  had  never  heard  of  m$ 
before." 

"  What  did  you  expect,  dear  ?"  answered  her  friecd* 
"  That  he  would  throw  his  arms  around  your  neck  a»d 
kits  you  r 

"No,"  she  replied.  "I  do  not  think  I  expected 
anything ;  but  I  could  not  have  imagined  that  frigid 
demeanor  if  I  had  studied  the  probabilities  for  years." 

"If  he  were  alone  with  you  he  might  unbend," 
suggested  Belle.  "  I  would  like  to  know  if  that  ice- 
berg could  melt.  You  might  try  him." 

"  How  ?"  asked  Cora,  earnestly. 

"  Why,  you  are  in  a  bad  state  of  health,  you  know. 
Mr.  Johnson  has  repeatedly  begged  you  to  consult 
another  physician.  He  will  have  great  faith  in  the 
new  doctor  when  Willie's  arm  is  strong." 

Cora  thought  a  little  while. 

"  I  don't  believe  I  could  bear  it,"  she  said  at  last. 
"  Not  if  we  were  entirely  alone.  I  have  never  seen  him 
so  since  he  lived  with  us  at  Cambridge.  I  don't  know 
what  he  might  do." 

Belle  laughed. 

"  1  know,"  she  said.  "  He  would  feel  of  your  pulse, 
look  at  your  tongue,  write  a  prescription  and  bow  bira- 
self  out.  Let  me  recommend  you  to  have  a  good  fire 
when  he  calls  or  he  will  chill  you  to  death.  Oh,  Cora  ! 
1  wish  you  would  get  out  of  this  morbid  state.  It 
makes  you  so  unhappy  and  nothing  in  the  world  can 
ever  come  of  it.  When  Mr.  Johnson  proposed  to  go 
for  Dr.  Elton  I  thought  to  myself — one  sight  of  th« 
man  of  medicine  will  cure  her  as  well  as  the  baby.  It 
your  love  survives  his  iciness  it  is  of  a  solid  character 
ind«ed.  Banish  him  from  your  mind,  my  darling! 
You  can  have  anything  else  you  want  in  the  world  and 


you  can't  have  him.  Look  that  fact  squarely  in  tht 
face  and  be  a  woman  !" 

Cora  shook  her  head  sadly,  but  did  not  offer  any 
other  reply. 

"We  are  two  stranded  females  clinging  to  th« 
shores  of  time,"  pursued  Belle,  with  vivacity.  "  Look 
at  me  !  My  adored  one  stayed  fifteen  months  abroad, 
dead  in  love  with  an  opera  singer,  came  home  in  a  rush, 
gave  me  a  couple  of  kisses,  went  to  bed  by  himself  and 
was  gone  at  daylight  in  the  morning.  Now  he  is  back 
at  Berlin  with  htr.  Your  lover,  to  use  his  own  words, 
has  taken  a  profession  for  a  sweetheart,  and  to  judge 
from  appearances,  she  has  quite  filled  your  old  place. 
Shall  we  pine  away  and  die  of  lovesickness  ?  No ! 
Let  us  throw  such  nonsense  to  the  winds  and  enjoy 
ourselves,  as  we  have  a  right  to  do.  Here  we  are  re- 
fusing invitations  daily.  Captain  Hawkins  declares 
that  I  am  driving  him  to  despair,  and  Lieutenant  Stan- 
hope has  become  a  walking  shadow  on  your  account 
Let  us  reward  their  devotion." 

Cora  lifted  her  eyes  to  Belle's,  to  see  how  much  she 
meant  by  these  careless  words. 

"  You  have  an  excuse,  perhaps,"  she  said,  "  but  I 
have  none.  My  husband  has  not  deserted  me.  He  is 
only  too  faithful.  But  in  any  event,  I  can  conceive  of 
no  pleasure  in  throwing  myself  into  the  arms  of  the 
first  libertine  who  passes.  I  could  give  myself  to  no 
man  unless  the  spark  of  love  was  kindled  in  my 
breast" 

Belle  had  been  getting  into  one  of  her  reckless 
moods,  and  Cora's  expressions  drove  her  yet  farther. 

"  No  excuse,  you  gosling  !"  she  cried.  "  You  hav« 
the  greatest  of  all  excuses  !  If  Claude  would  stay  hers 
I  would  never  ask  for  a  better  man,  but  your  husband 


150  u  AI  A  XOTKXB  rr  n  A  TXBY  jumuaon 

neither  is,  was,  nor  can  be  a  source  of  happiness  to 
you.  Claude  finds  himself  better  amused  in  Berlia 
«nd  he  shall  never  know  I  care.  I  would  sooner  did 
than  write  him  to  come  home.  Now  look  at  you/ 
case  You  are  an  unsophisticated  girl  and  this  craftj 
lawyer  sets  his  arts  at  work  to  secure  you.  His  sista 
yoes  to  live  at  your  house  so  as  to  get  your  mother  oa 
his  side.  You  sacrifice  your  own  feelings  and  consent 
to  fall  into  the  trap.  Johnson,  luckily  for  him,  becomes 
the  custodian  of  Mr.  Elton's  little  legacy.  Like  the 
honest  fellow  he  is,  he  wires  him  the  news  and  suffi- 
cient funds  to  resume  his  studies.  But  he  was  not 
bred  at  his  crafty  trade  for  nothing.  He  realizes  that 
Elton  may  make  a  trip  home,  in  which  event  his  own 
cake  would  become  an  unpalatable  piece  of  dough,  so 
he  hastens  his  marriage,  calculating  the  date,  as  he 
thinks,  against  such  probability.  He  does  not  know 
of  the  little  sister's  letter  and  naturally  supposes  the 
•tudent,  being  unwarned,  will  require  a  longer  time  to 
prepare  for  the  journey.  He  expects  to  be  off  for 
Bermuda  with  his  bride  long  before  the  hero  of  the 
play  comes  on  the  stage.  Nicely  planned  as  are  his 
purposes,  nothing  but  a  slight  railroad  accident  pre- 
vents their  being  upset.  But  Fate  favors  him.  He 
secures  the  body  of  the  coveted  woman  and  the  law 
makes  it  his.  Her  SOUL  is  her  own  and  she  bestows  it 
where  she  will  !" 

Cora  looked  like  one  awakening  from  a  dream,  &i 
the  listened  to  this  audacious  arraignment  of  her  boa- 
band. 

14  It  must  be  so,"  she  murmured.  "  Why  did  I  not 
•ee  it  before  !  You  should  have  warned  me  !" 

"  I  r  ejaculated  Mrs.  Wyilis.  ^  Did  I  know  what 
they  were  doing  ?  You  considered  me  then  hardly 


rt  Aft  A  MOTHS*  II  II  A  TOT  DOnRXBT  THDKk"  S51 

It  to  speak  to — don't  interrupt,  you  know  it  is  true. 
When  I  came  .o  sit  by  your  mother's  bedside,  I  dared 
give  no  advice,  for  I  found  everything  settled  without 
me.  I  helped  you  get  ready  for  the  wedding,  but  I 
did  not  know  your  bridegroom  was  aware  of  a  legacy 
which  would  restore  hope  and  confidence  to  your  lost 
lover.  I  might  not  have  raised  any  opposition  if  I 
had  been  consulted,  as  I  supposed  the  old  love  had 
been  dropped  on  the  threshold  of  the  new  one.  Who 
could  foresee  that,  when  you  got  every  comfort  in  life 
at  your  disposal,  you  would  forget  all  but  the  one 
thing  you  ought  to  forget  first  ?" 
Cora  looked  the  picture  of  despair. 
"  I  shall  leave  him,"  she  said,  in  a  shaking  voice 
"  I  have  no  other  choice,  now  I  know  what  he  has 
done." 

Belle  made  an  impatient  gesture. 
"  You  will  do  nothing  so  idiotic.  If  he  had  settled 
a  snug  sum  on  you,  as  Claude  did  on  me,  you  might, 
but  not  now.  You  would  go  forth  with  only  your 
clothes  and  jewels  and  either  starve  or  find  a  shop- 
girl's place.  He  has  married  you  ;  make  him  support 
you  ;  that  is  part  of  his  bargain.  He  is  engrossed  in 
business  and  it  is  a  wise  provision  of  nature  that  allows 
mice  to  enjoy  themselves  in  the  absence  of  their  natu- 
ral enemy." 

The  nurse  came  up  with  Willie  aad  retired  while 
he  was  receiving  his  nourishment.  The  mother  looked 
at  the  little  fellow  as  he  greedily  imbibed  his  food,  and 
kissed  him  softly  several  times  when  he  smiled  up  into 
her  face.  She  wondered,  if  she  was  getting  to  love 
him.  When  he  had  gone  she  said  to  Belle  : 

•'As  a  wife,  I  think  I  could  take  your  advice.  &s  a 
mother— -it  is  a  very  different  thing !" 


"  You  should  not  have  been  a  mother/'  smiled  her 
friend.  "  It  is  very  unfashionable  and  I  was  quite  sur- 
prised at  you.  However,  my  advice  is  always  thrown 
away — and  I  will  offer  no  more  excep:  this  :  Forget 
that  North  Pole  M.  D.  as  fast  as  you  can.  He  will 
never  do  you  any  good,  and  it's  perfect  folly  to 
freeze'  to  him  !" 

She  laughed  at  her  own  pun  and  the  conference 
terminated  good-naturedly. 

The  bones  of  the  baby's  arm  knit  rapidly  together. 
Dr.  Elton  made  about  half-a-dozen  visits  altogether, 
and  Mr.  Johnson  received  his  bill  for  two  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars  at  the  end  of  the  month. 

"  Whew  !"  ejaculated  the  lawyer,  showing  the  bill 
to  his  wife.  "  Elton  is  charging  pretty  good  prices  for 
a  beginner  !  Well,  why  should't  he  !  The  old  surgeons 
are  giving  way  to  him  everywhere.  He  will  be  a  rich 
man  in  a  few  years  at  this  rate." 

Then  Mr.  Jonnson  found  himself  wondering 
whether  Elton  had  entirely  recovered  from  his  youth- 
ful passion. 

"Yes,  it  is  evident  he  has,"  he  reasoned.  "I 
watched  him  at  the  house  and  he  hardly  looked  at 
her.  Oh,  it  is  much  better  for  them  both  !" 

One  evening  in  the  middle  of  winter,  Mr.  Johnaea 
being  away  at  Albany  attending  the  meetings  of  the 
Senate,  Belle  persuaded  Cora  to  go  out  to  dinner  with 
her  at  an  ultra-fashionable  restaurant  aot  far  from  the 
corner  of  Broadway  and  Twenty-sixth  Street.  They 
went  on  foot,  as  the  walk  was  such  a  short  one  ;  and, 
r>y  a  remarkable  coincidence,  encountered  Captain 
Hawkins  aad  Lieutenant  Stanhope  almost  at  the  d  ror. 
Learning  of  th«ir  errand,  the  gevtlencn  b«gg«4  "•>* 


*  AJ  A  MOTHKB  IT  II  A  VZXY  DDTXKBNT  FIHTO."    253 

ladies  to  allow  them  the  favor  of  becoming  their  enter- 
tainers. Mrs.  Wyllis,  who  did  most  of  the  talking, 
protested  at  first  that  they  could  not  think  of  it,  And 
ended  by  accepting  with  apparent  hesitation. 

"If  it  wasn't  such  a  terribly  respectable  place  2 
wouldn't  think  of  it,"  she  whispered  to  Cora,  as  they 
ascended  the  stairs.  "The  best  people  in  New  York 
come  here  to  dine." 

A  cozy,  private  room  was  found,  and  the  gentlemen 
conducted  themselves  with  the  utmost  propriety  dur- 
ing the  dinner.  Cora  was  almost  wholly  unused  to 
sparkling  wines  and  the  champagne,  which  was  freely 
served,  affected  her  easily.  She  began  to  talk  rapidly 
and  developed  a  gaiety  which  Belle  had  never  seen  in 
her  before.  Delighted  to  have  her  friend  throw  off 
the  sombre  face  of  so  many  long  months.  Belle  contin- 
ued to  fill  her  glass  until  it  became  necessary  to  cau- 
tion her  against  raising  her  voice  too  high.  Mrs, 
Wyllis  drank  with  more  caution,  but  soon  she  also 
began  to  feel  the  effect  of  the  beveraf*  as  well  as  of 
her  surroundings,  and  the  two  officers  exchanged  q aick 
glances  of  satisfaction. 

When  the  dishes  were  cleared  awa)  *nd  cigarettes 
brought,  Belle  eagerly  lit  one  and  passed  it  from  her 
mouth  to  that  of  Captain  Hawkins,  who  seemed  to 
think  the  action  very  droll  indeed.  The**  Cora,  who 
had  never  touched  one  in  her  life,  was  persuaded  to 
tight  Lieutenant  Stanhope's  in  the  same  manner. 

"  It  is  a  common  custom  in  Brazil,  where  (  used  to 
live,"  explained  Mrs.  Wyllis. 

Another  bottle  of  champagne  was  opened  «ad  its 
elect  on  the  ladies  was  immediately  noticeable.  They 
grew  careless  of  their  words  and  actions.  The  arnu 
of  the  gentlemen  stole  unreboked  around  their  waist* 


$54   "  AS  A  MOTHXX  IT  II  A  YEBT  DIFFEBBNT  THHW." 

A  great  many  things  were  said  and  laughed  at  without 
being  comprehended.  Before  the  bottle  was  emptied 
kisses  were  given.  Bacchus  hides  his  jolly  face 
aowhere  more  effectively  than  in  a  quart  of  that 
seductive  beverage. 

They  amused  themselves  in  many  ways.  Finally 
Lieutenant  Stanhope  offered  to  bet  a  box  of  gloves 
that  he  could  guess  the  size  of  Cora's  boot.  He 
guessed  it  was  No.  i.  She  said  he  had  lost,  as  it  was 
No.  i^.  He  said  he  would  not  pay  until  he  had  proof 
and  she  agreed  to  exhibit  the  boot  for  him  to  measure. 
In  rising  she  reeled  against  the  table  and  there  was  a 
crash  of  glass.  This  brought  an  attendant,  who  remon- 
strated, saying  that  this  sort  of  thing  could  not  be  per- 
mitted. 

Then  there  arose  a  difference  of  opinion  between 
the  two  officers.  Lieutenant  Stanhope  favored  punch- 
ing the  attendant's  head.  Captain  Hawkins  preferred 
leaving  the  restaurant  and  going  to  some  place,  where 
a  party  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  could  be  properly 
treated.  The  ladies  sided  with  Captain  Hawkins,  in 
the  interest  of  peace.  The  bill  was  haughtily  demanded 
and  paid,  including  a  round  sum  for  the  shattered  glass. 
A  carriage  was  sent  for.  The  party  entered  it  and  a 
whispered  direction  was  given  to  the  driver.  Belle's 
bead  lay  on  Captain  Hawkins'  shoulder.  Cora  leaned 
against  Lieutenant  Stanhope. 

They  came  to  a  hotel — somewhere.  They  got  into 
an  elevator  and  soon  reached  a  suite  of  handsomely 
furnished  rooms.  The  gentlemen  consulted  an<S 
decided  that  more  champagne  and  cigarettes  were  ne- 
cessary. All  drank,  smoked  and  chatted.  Finally  Mrs. 
Wyilis  asked  the  hour.  Captain  Hawkins  looked  at 
hi*  watch  and  said  it  was  tea  o'clock.  Mrs.  Wyilis  said 


u  AS  A  MOTHXB  IT  n  A  TOT  DIlTMUBPr  TKOSQ."   256 

her  watch  must  have  stopped,  then,  as  the  hands 
pointed  to  two.  Cora's  watch  was  appealed  to  and  its 
hands  also  indicated  two.  The  queer  coincidence  of 
both  watches  having  stopped  at  precisely  the  same 
ninute  amused  everybody  immensely. 

Captain  Hawkins  and  Mrs.  Wyllis  began  to  prom- 
enade the  room.  They  waltzed  a  few  minutes,  to 
the  great  joy  of  Cora,  who  essayed  to  imitate  them 
with  the  lieutenant,  but  was  too  dizzy  to  do  so  suc- 
cessfully. Then  the  couples  became  separated.  Cap- 
tain Hawkins  and  Belle  found  themselves  in  a  cham- 
ber on  one  side  of  the  parlor  where  they  had  been  slay- 
ing. In  some  mysterious  way  the  door  became  shut. 
The  captain  had  Belle  in  his  arms  and  was  kissing  her 
violently  on  the  mouth. 

Suddenly  a  ray  of  reason  came  into  Belle's  head. 
She  comprehended  it  all  in  a  moment 

"  Let  us  return,"  she  said.  "  Cora  will  be  alarmed 
at  our  absence." 

He  remonstrated. 

"  She  is  with  Stanhope  and  would  much  rather  we 
did  not  intrude.  I  assure  you  it  would  be  impolite." 

Then  he  kissaiher  again  and  whispered  something 
in  her  ear. 

She  drew  herself  up  proudly. 

"  I  am  a  foolish  woman,  perhaps,  but  not  a  bad 
one,  Captain  Hawkins  !  This  has  gone  far  enough  ! 
Open  that  door  !" 

He  tried  to  restrain  her. 

"  Belle,  my  darling,  you  do  net  know  how  much  I 
love  you  !" 

She  broke  from  him  and  opened  the  door  herself. 
At  that  moment  they  heard  the  sound  of  a  falling 
body  in  the  room  beyond. 


They  both  hastened  in  that  direction  and,  to  theit 
horror,  saw  the  lieutenant  lying  at  full  length  on  the 
carpet  and  Cora  standing  over  him  with  an  empty 
champagne  bottle  grasped  in  her  hand.  There  wan  ft 
gash  in  his  head  from  which  blood  oozed  slowly. 

"  Is  he  dead  "  cried  Belle,  in  freezing  tones. 

"I  hope  so,"  responded  Cora,  calmly.  She  wa* 
entirely  sober  now. 

"  Why  did  you  do  it  ?"  demanded  the  captain. 

"  No  matter !" 

Hawkins  leaned  over  the  body. 

"He  is  alive!"  he  said.  "I  guess  it  won't  b« 
serious.  Where  is  the  water  ?" 

They  found  the  water  and  a  quantity  of  it,  dashed 
repeatedly  in  Stanhope's  face,  made  him  open  his  eyes. 
The  captain  helped  him  to  the  bed,  which  looked  as 
if  somebody  had  previously  lain  upon  it. 

Belle  got  a  towel  and  wiped  the  blood  from  the 
gash.  The  captain  said  a  plaster  would  fix  that  all 
right — there  was  no  need  of  stitches.  Cora  took  a 
chair  and  looked  on  aimlessly.  In  a  short  time  the 
injured  man  could  sit  up. 

"  I  forgive  you,  Cora,"  were  bis  first  words.  "  I 
know  you  did  not  mean  to  do  it" 

"  I  meant  to  kill  you  !"  she  replied,  fiercely. 

''  But  you  are  sorry  now  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  that  I  did  not  succeed  !"  she  responded. 

Mrs.  Wyllis  asked  Captain  Hawkins  to  call  a  car- 
riage. *'  You  will  not  need  to  come,"  the  said.  "  Your 
friend  wants  you  here." 

He  talked  to  her  a  few  minutes  in  a  low  voice, 
teeming  to  consent  with  regret.  Then  he  rang  the 
bell  and  ordered  the  vehicle. 

Stanhope  tried  to  rise,  whes  he  bade  the  ladies 


tf  u  A  MonoBE  IT  M  A  vxxT  DrJTt&nT  Timra."  257 

good  night,  but  was  unequal  to  the  effort.  He  begged 
Cora  to  take  his  hand  and  say  they  were  still  friends. 
When  she  paid  no  attention  to  this,  he  said  she 
would  at  least  know  that  no  one  would  ever  hear  of 
the  occurrences  of  the  evening  from  him. 

When  the  ladies  reached  home  they  were  surprised 
to  find  the  house  so  dark.  Belle  consulted  her  watch 
and  when  she  saw  it  was  nearly  four  she  realized  all 
at  once  the  deception.  They  let  themselves  in  noise- 
lessly with  a  latch-key  and  retired  without  disturbing 
any  one. 

In  the  morning  the  two  friends  met  each  othei 
with  averted  eyes.  They  went  about  the  house  foi 
some  hours  without  exchanging  more  words  than 
were  necessary,  till  at  last  Belle  broke  the  silence  : 

"  Cora,  dear,  I  am  as  sorry  as  you  for  the  troubl* 
last  night,  but  you  mustn't  blame  me  for  it.  I  had  no 
idea  those  men  would  behave  so  badly.  I  never  was 
in  such  a  position  before  in  my  life." 

Cora  did  not  look  up  at  first. 

"  I  have  been  wondering,"  she  said,  "  if  that  ia 
what  you  called  '  amusement,'  when  we  were  talking 
the  other  day.  It  has  revealed  to  me  one  strata  lower 
than  the  miserable  marriage  I  have  made,  and  so  fat 
it  may  do  me  good.  But  I  think  I  never  can  live  long 
enough  to  blot  out  its  memory.  I  feel  disgraced 
through  and  through.  Most  of  the  occurrences  of  th« 
evening  I  recall  only  through  a  blur,  and  yet  I  think 
I  forget  nothing.  We  were  drunk,  Belle,  in  plain 
English.  Yes,  we  were  affected  by  that  wine.  Those 
execrable  fellows  considered  us  too  silly  creatures  and 
would  have  made  us  two  wicked  ones,  if  they  could 
Their  arms  were  around  us,  their  kisses  were  on  our 
lips — ugh  !  A  few  more  swallows  of  wine  and  there 


868  "  Ai  A  MOTHER  IT  II  A  YZST  DDTEUDrr  mm." 

would  have  been  no  limit  to  our  full  disgrace,  I  feel 
as  if  I  could  never  bear  to  see  my  face  in  the  glass  ; 
and  if  I  should  meet  either  of  them  anywhere  I  should 
not  know  how  to  hide  my  head." 

Belle  heard  her  humbly. 

"I  feel  just  as  you  do,"  she  said.  "  I  was  ennuied 
to  death  here,  with  no  excitement,  and  I  thought  a 
little  gaiety  would  brighten  my  spirits.  It  has  taught 
me  a  lesson,  love,  as  well  as  you.  I  think  that  blow 
you  gave  Stanhope  has  taught  him  one  also,  and  when 
I  saw  him  lying  there  I  had  an  awful  feeling,  for  I 
re  illy  thought  he  was  dead  !" 

In  the  evening  a  servant  brought  them  the  cards 
of  Captain  Hawkins  and  Lieutenant  Stanhope,  with  a 
pencilled  note  from  the  former,  stating  that  the  gen- 
tlemen would  like  to  make  an  apology  in  person  for 
the  unpleasant  events  of  the  preceding  evening. 

Belle  consulted  a  moment  with  Cora, 

"Tell  the  gentlemen  there  is  no  answer  whatever," 
was  the  message  they  gave  the  domestic. 

The  next  day  Mr.  Johnson  was  surprised  at  receiv. 
ing  an  unsigned  letter  with  these  words  : 

-  A*k  your  wife  where  she  was  on  Wednesday  ufcfcL" 


CHAPTER  XXVIH. 

SOME   SAY   IT    WAS   A   CYCLOWX. 

Mr  Johnson's  reply  to  the  anonymous  letter  which 
he  received  was  to  tear  it  into  minute  particles  and 
crush  them  under  his  heel  on  the  office  floor.  If  he 
could  have  done  as  much  for  the  author  of  the  epistle 
he  would  have  been  glad.  Ask  his  wife  about  her 
movements,  indeed  !  The  wife  of  Hon.  J.  S.  Johnson, 
member  of  the  New  York  Senate,  prospective  candidate 
for  Congress,  leader  of  the  Empire  State  bar  !  Other 
men's  wives  might  or  might  not  be  fit  subjects  for 
anonymous  letter  writers,  but  his — ridiculous  !  He 
dismissed  the  matter  from  his  mind,  and  it  was  a  long 
time  before  it  came  back  there  in  a  serious  light. 

The  rest  of  the  winter  passed  quietly  at  the  house 
in  Thirty-third  Street.  The  two  ladies  were  as  cir- 
cumspect as  nuns.  When  they  went  out  it  was  in  a 
carriage  of  their  own,  which  waited  for  and  returned 
with  them.  Captain  Hawkins  and  Lieutenant  Stan- 
hope, after  repeated  attempts  to  secure  another  inter- 
view, gave  up  the  chase  with  a  few  expletives  at  the 
bad  luck.  The  latter's  ship  was  ordered  into  southern 
seas  and  the  former  found  himself  transferred  to 
another  station. 

Baby  Willie  thrived  well.  His  arm  knit  together 
so  perfectly  that  the  fracture  would  never  have  been 
suspected.  When  spring  came  he  was  toddling  aboul 
the  house  in  short  skirts.  His  mother  took  him  with 
her  often  when  she  went  for  a  ride  in  the  park.  Sena* 
tor  Johnson  was  generally  too  bnsy  to  accompany  them, 


SAY  0   WAi  A 

but  he  did  whenever  he  could,  for  he  liked  to  meet 
acquaintances  and  see  them  look  at  his  handsome  wife 
and  boy.  It  was  much  better  than  being  a  bacheloi 
and  riding  alone,  he  thought.  While  Cora  still  behaved 
toward  him  with  the  old  reserve,  he  was  too  little  versed 
In  such  matters — as  well  as  of  too  busy  a  life — to  notice 
it  much.  Her  quiet  dignity  became  her.  Her  still  pale 
face  made  her  look  interesting.  The  senator  saw  noth- 
ing in  his  matrimonial  sky  to  occasion  him  uneasiness. 
His  bark  seemed  sailing  placidly  to  its  proper  harbor. 

It  surprised  him  a  little  in  the  autumn  when 
Mrs.  Johnson  suddenly  changed  her  mind  about  going 
to  Europe.  He  supposed  the  journey  decided  upon. 
Her  physician  declared  a  change  of  some  sort  neces- 
sary to  her  health.  Mrs.  Wyllis  expressed  her  will- 
ingness to  accompany  her,  and  there  seemed  noth- 
ing in  the  way  of  a  pleasant  and  beneficial  tour. 
When  she  told  him  she  had  concluded  to  spend  the 
winter  in  New  York,  he  was  gratified,  though  he 
would  willingly  have  borne  a  long  separation  for  her 
sake.  Between  his  duties  at  Albany  and  those  of  his 
growing  practice  he  was  frequently  absent  from  home 
for  days  at  a  time,  but  that  was  nothing  compared  to 
missing  her  for  six  or  eight  months,  which  the  other 
plan  would  have  entailed.  Senator  Johnson  loved  his 
wife  and  knew  no  pleasure  greater  than  that  of  com- 
ing to  his  home  when  she  was  there. 

Jessie  came  to  spend  the  Christmas  holidays.  She 
was  now  fifteen,  a  tall  handsome  girl,  with  a  dignity 
of  carriage  which  Cora  had  never  possessed.  The 
year  had  made  a  wonderful  change  in  her.  Her 
dresses  covered  the  tops  of  her  boots,  her  hair,  suf- 
fered no  longer  to  hang  in  curling  waves,  was  gath- 
ered into  a  Grecian  knot,  and  a  new  carefulness  in  the 


•OMB  IAT  R  WIA  A  croon.  261 

little  things  of  her  attire  was  plainly  visible.  Her 
teachers  reported  that  she  was  making  rapid  progress 
in  her  studies  and  would  be  ready  for  Vassar  in  the 
fall,  if  it  was  decided  to  send  her  there.  Cora  felt  a  sis- 
terly pride  in  the  beautiful  girl,  but  recollections  of  net 
own  childhood  at  the  same  age,  when  life  seemed  se 
fresh  and  fa;.r.  would  sometimes  rush  like  a  torrent 
over  her  mir  d.  Still  there  were  compensations. 

"My  sacrifice  could  not  save  my  darling  mother," 
she  used  to  muse,  "  but  it  will  give  Jessie  ease  and 
comfort.  In  that  way  it  will  be  worth  something,  after 
all." 

Jessie  did  not  learn  to  like  Mr.  Johnson,  but  she 
did  learn  to  treat  him  with  outward  respect,  which 
answered  quite  as  well.  He  frequently  told  his  wife 
to  spare  nothing  that  would  make  her  sister  happier, 
saying  he  considered  her  one  of  his  family  in  the  fullest 
sense.  The  girl  sometimes  accepted  his  urgent  re- 
quests to  play  and  sing  for  him,  in  both  of  which 
accomplishments  she  excelled.  Cora  had  rarely 
touched  the  piano  since  her  marriage  and  a  song  had 
never  issued  from  her  lips.  Jessie  could  play,  not  only 
that  instrument,  but  the  guitar  and  banjo  as  well,  and 
Mr.  Johnson  liked  to  hear  both.  If  she  found  him 
sound  asleep  in  his  chair  after  a  few  moments,  it 
caused  her  no  chagrin.  She  did  not  play  to  exhibit 
her  talent,  but  from  a  sense  of  duty,  and  if  he  dropped 
into  a  nap  the  labor  was  the  sot  ner  over. 

Claude  Wyllis,  who  had  returned  to  Berlin  after 
that  night  at  Newport  when  his  wife  went  riding  with 
Captain  Hawkins,  still  remained  there.  His  weekly 
letters,  containing  little  besides  perfunctories,  wer« 
answered  regularly  by  Belle,  and  Mi.  Johnson 


managed  his  financial  affairs  very  much  after  his  own 
fancy.  Miss  Bornstein  made  great  progress  that  wia- 
ter  in  the  esteem  of  the  music-loving  public,  and  offers 
from  impressarios  on  two  continents  were  ready  for 
her  consideration  when  her  present  engagement 
should  end.  Claude  had  become  devotedly  atUched 
to  the  fair  cantatrice.  His  former  brief  passions 
seemed  like  nothings  compared  to  that  which  he  felt 
for  the  beautiful  young  singer.  On  her  part  she  recog- 
nized the  debt  she  owed  the  man  at  whose  word  the 
gates  of  Opportunity  swung  open  before  her.  Months 
passed  and  the  twain  continued  inseparable.  Madam 
Rumor  filled  the  air  of  Berlin  with  gossip  concerning 
them,  most  of  which  never  reached  their  ears.  Success 
had  lit  like  a  dove  on  Lulu's  forehead.  That  was 
enough  for  her  and  for  him. 

Claude  used  to  think  sometimes  of  his  wife,  and  a 
little  twinge  would  seize  him  as  he  recalled  the  scene 
at  Newport,  when  she  returned  laughing,  at  that  late 
hour,  in  Captain  Hawkins'  dog-cart,  while  he  sat 
brooding  with  suppressed  fury  in  the  silent  chamber 
•ver  her  head.  How  coolly  the  captain  lifted  Belle 
out,  holding  her  superb  form  in  h  s  arms  before  he  set 
her  on  the  ground  !  Probably  he  still  danced  attend- 
ance on  the  deserted  wife.  Claude  felt  it  was  none 
of  his  business,  if  he  did ;  but  somehow  he  disliked 
to  dwell  on  the  subject.  Belle's  life  before  he  married 
her  was  open  to  grave  suspicion.  She  had  admitted  to 
him  that  she  did  not  profess  to  have  been  a  vestal. 
He  recalled  the  photograph  which  he  burned,  that 
strangest  of  all  mornings,  at  Brousseau's,  in  the  suburbs 
of  Montreal.  Belle  couldn't  talk  to  him — but  then  she 
•ever  attempted  to.  He  couldn't  talk  to  Belle,  and  he 
bad  oo  idea  ef  trying.  She  had  her  money — there 


•AT  IT  WAi 

was  no  limit  to  what  she  might  draw — and  sht  fcfti 
her  lovers,  too,  more  or  less  devoted ;  of  that  he  felt 
confident.  On  the  other  hand,  Claude  had  Lulu— why 
should  he  not  be  happy  ? 

Lulu  must  know  by  this  time  that  he  was  married 
{and  yet  she  never  alluded  to  the  subject  She  was 
without  near  relations,  and  the  aged  brewer  at  Mil- 
waukee had  too  much  to  do  with  his  malt  and  his  hopi 
to  bother  her  with  criticism  or  advice.  She  would 
have  accepted  neither  with  a  good  grace.  Her  only 
ambition  was  to  make  a  great  name  on  the  roll  of 
songsters,  and  that  she  seemed  sure  of  attaining. 
Anything  which  aided  her  in  that  ambition,  anything 
which  made  the  ascent  less  steep,  she  welcomed. 

And  yet  Lulu  Bornstein  loved  Claude  ;  yes,  though 
she  did  not  realize  it  then,  she  loved  him  better  even 
than  her  Art ! 

So  much  for  our  other  characters,  on  all  of  whom 
the  observant  reader  will  doubtless  wish  to  keep  a 
careful  eye.  Now  to  return  to  Cora : 

Dr.  Livingstone  was  one  of  those  successful  practi- 
tioners whose  method  is  to  find  out  what  their  wealthy 
patrons  want  most  and  proceed  to  order  it  with 
becoming  despatch.  No  plan  is  more  successful  with 
lady  patients.  When  Cora  wanted  to  go  to  Europe — 
before  she  learned  that  Elton  had  reached  America 
— Dr.  Livingstone  highly  extolled  the  benefits  likely 
'to  result  from  such  a  journey.  The  baby  was  weaned 
and  had  much  better,  Mrs.  Johnson  thought,  be  left  at 
home  with  its  nurse.  Certainly,  the  doctor  said,  it 
would  be  safer  there  than  encountering  the  disagree- 
able sensations  experienced  at  sea.  When  Cora  con* 
duded  not  to  go,  the  doctor  thought  perhaps  it  ws* 


964  SOUS  BIT    IT    WAI  A.  OTOLOOTI, 

better  for  her,  on  the  whole,  to  stay  in  New-  York 
another  winter.  Yes,  the  American  metropolis  was  a 
very  healthy  place  in  cold  weather.  And  when,  early 
&£  aext  April,  she  decided  to  take  a  short  trip  into  tht 
Western  states,  he  could  not  say  enough  to  commend 
her  judgment.  The  Northwest  was  a  paradise  of 
fiealth  in  the  spring.  It  was  the  place  of  all  others 
where  she  would  be  most  likely  to  recuperate  her 
wasted  strength. 

Mrs.  Wyllis  happened  to  be  away  on  a  visit  at 
Colonel  Mitchell's,  whose  ordinary  residence  was  in 
Syracuse.  Cora  therefore  took  with  her  only  one 
attendant, — a  Mrs.  Wilkins,  who  had  been  with  the 
Johnson  family  for  years  and  confidently  believed  that 
all  the  glory  of  the  earth  centred  in  its  crest  and  name. 
They  traveled  slowly  across  the  country,  stopping  at 
Niagara,  which  Cora  had  never  seen,  and  at  other 
places,  for  a  few  days  at  a  time,  until  they  reached 
Cleveland.  Here  they  took  a  steamer  and  made  the 
delightful  trip  through  Lakes  Erie,  St.  Clair,  Huron 
and  Michigan  to  Chicago.  Cora  had  not  felt  so  well 
for  two  years.  The  freedom  of  being  by  herself  gave 
her  the  kind  of  joy  that  a  vacation  from  school  brings 
to  a  child.  Color  came  to  some  extent  into  her  checks 
and  her  appetite  astonished  her. 

Mrs.  Wilkins  was  a  woman  whose  boast  was  that 
M  she  knew  her  place,"  and  Cora  was  as  free  from  in 
terference  as  if  she  had  been  entirely  alone,  while  re 
Sieved  at  the  same  time  of  all  the  troubles  and  annoy- 
ances of  travel.  She  got  acquainted  with  several 
ladies  on  the  steamer  and  found  their  companionship 
rery  chat  mi  ng.  Nothing  affects  depressed  spirits  Jike 
a  water  trip ;  and  the  great  lakes  and  rivers  of  the 
hemisphere  are  excelled  is  this  re»p*ct  by 


•O1UE  IAT  IT  WAM  A 

none.  From  Chicago  they  went  by  train  to  St.  Louis 
and  at  that  city  took  another  steamer,  in  which  they 
began  the  ascent  of  the  lordly  Mississippi.  The  mag- 
nificent scenery  which  borders  the  great  stream  proved 
to  Cora,  as  it  must  to  every  traveler  who  views  it  for  thtt 
first  time,  a  source  of  deep  admiration.  She  spent 
most  of  each  day  on  the  hurricane  deck,  in  a  comfort- 
able «hair,  engaged  in  watching  the  delightful  and 
constantly  changing  panorama.  Her  rest  at  night 
was  perfect  in  the  comfortable  berth  of  her  broad 
stateroom. 

On  the  second  morning  she  was  up  and  walking 
the  decks  soon  after  daylight,  when  the  boat  made  its 
landing  at  Dubuque.  She  stood  at  the  rail,  watching 
with  interest  the  moving  bales,  bundles  and  barrels, 
which  went  up  and  down  the  gang-plank,  and  the  pas- 
sengers who  embarked  or  disembarked,  in  little 
groups  or  singly,  during  the  hour  of  the  boat's  stay. 
Only  one  figure  attracted  more  than  passing  attention, 
but  that  one  gave  her  a  decided  start.  It  was  Dr.  El- 
ton, who  walked  up  the  plank  with  a  satchel  in  his 
hand,  and  who  evidently  intended  to  take  passage,  as 
immediately  preceding  him  was  a  negro  with  a  trunk, 
about  which  the  doctor  seemed  to  be  giving  direc- 
tions. 

For  several  months  Cora  had  thought  little  about 
Elton,  compared  to  the  old  days.  He  was  the  farthest 
person  in  the  world  from  her  mind  when  her  eyes 
encountered  his  unmistakable  form.  She  had  per- 
suaded herself,  whenever  the  matter  had  came  up, 
that  she  was  outgrowing  an  attachment  which  she  was 
now  convinced  could  cause  her  naught  but  distress. 
Her  married  life  could  not  bring  her  joy— she  knew 
that  as  well  as  ever — but  after  her  adventure  with 


M*  fOtCK   SAT   IT   WAS   A 

Stanhope  she  had  learned  that  there  were  worse  thiagt 
even  than  it  She  was  Mr.  Johnson's  wife  and  had 
-esolved  to  bear  the  duties  of  that  position  with  what 
patience  she  might.  Elton  had  shown  her  how  coldly 
he  could  renounce  her  love.  She  had  often  said  to 
herself  that,  if  they  ever  met  again,  she  would  be  as 
cold  as  he. 

But  when  she  saw  him,  all  her  resolutions  vanished 
in  one  instant. 

If  he  should  come  and  beckon  her  to  follow  him 
nothing  in  the  world  could  hold  her  back. 

What  should  she  do  ?  She  felt  an  unconquerable 
fluttering  at  the  heart.  Should  she  fly  to  her  room 
and  hide  until  he  left  the  boat ;  or  should  she  seize 
this  opportunity — there  might  never  be  another — to 
have  a  final  talk  with  him  ?  There  was  much  she 
would  like  him  to  know,  even  though  the  knowledge 
could  now  do  her  no  good.  There  were  things  she 
could  tell  hin  that  might  soften  the  harshness  with 
which  he  seemed  to  regard  her.  If  she  only  had  a 
little  more  strength  and  courage  ! 

While  she  was  trying  to  decide  what  course  te 
adopt,  Elton  came  up  the  stairway,  within  ten  feet  of 
her.  He  recognized  her  at  once,  lifted  his  hat,  said 
"  Good  morning,  Mrs.  Johnson  !"  and  was  about  to 
pass  on,  when  she  found  words. 

"  Dr.  Elton,  I  did  not  expect  to  meet  you  at  this 
distance  from  New  York.  Are  you  going  far  on  this 
boatr 

"  To  Lake  City,"  he  responded,  evincing  consider- 
able  surprise  at  the  question. 

"  Ah  !"  she  said.     "  You  used  to  live  near  there." 

Her  calmness  was  a  source  of  greater  sarpriw  t* 
her  than  even  to  him. 


•OMB  IAT   IT  WAI  A   0  TCLOH*.  M? 

"  Yes ;  that  vicinity  was  my  boyhood  s  home." 
"  It  was  not  many  miles  from  there  that  yon  killed 
the  big  Bruin  ?"  she  said,  smiling  faintly. 

As  he  bowed  assent,  an  expression  of  great  pain 
crossed  his  features.  What  memories  those  words 
awoke !  What  glimpses  of  a  "  might  have  been  !" 

It  was  evident  he  did  not  intend  to  linger. 

"  Your  family  is  well,  I  trust  ?"  he  said,  to  change 
the  subject. 

"Quite  so.  Your  operation  on  Willie's  arm  was 
wonderful.  One  would  never  know  it  had  been 
broken.  We  are  very  grateful  to  you." 

Dr.  Elton  hesitated. 

"  The  bill  was  rendered  and  paid,"  he  said,  rather 
bluntly.  "  There  is  no  obligation." 

"  Can  money  compensate  for  everything  ?"  Cora 
asked,  unguardedly. 

He  said  more  than  he  intended  when  he  an- 
swered : 

M  I  have  sometimes  thought  so." 

Then  he  turned  to  one  of  the  boat's  officers,  wh« 
was  approaching,  and,  after  asking  him  a  question, 
lifted  his  hat  to  Cora  and  disappeared. 

She  was  very  happy  ;  for  she  had  spoken  to  him 
and  he  had  answered  her.  He  would  not  avoid  her  \i 
they  met  again,  as  they  were  almost  sure  to  do,  en  the 
same  boat.  He  had  said  nothing  to  encourage  her  ; 
indeed,  his  words  were  hardly  up  to  the  standard  ot 
politeness  ;  but  she  had  heard  his  voice.  It  was  a 
beginning,  even  though  inauspicious.  The  con- 
demned criminal  finds  relief  in  inditing  petitions  for 
clemency,  though  the  task  seems  a  hopeless  one. 

Another  opportunity  to  engage  Elton  in  conversa- 
tion did  not  COOBC.  though  eagerly  sought  for.  Ha 


Ml  10101  §AT  FT  wii  A  oittomi 

took  his  meals  at  another  table  and  spent  most  of  the 
day  either  in  his  stateroom  or  on  the  lower  deck, 
where  ladies  were  not  supposed  to  go.  In  the  even- 
ing, as  she  promenaded  the  upper  deck  with  Mrs. 
Wilkias,  she  saw  him,  but  he  was  engrossed  with 
another  gentleman,  probably  in  some  business  or 
political  discussion,  and  did  not  look  toward  her. 
Mrs.  Welkins  noticed  him  and  called  Cora's  attention 
to  the  fact  that  he  was  on  board. 

"  Yes  ;  he  spoke  to  me  when  he  came  on,  early  this 
morning,"  responded  Cora,  quietly,  as  if  that  ended 
her  interest  in  the  subject 

At  nine  o'clock  the  steamer  entered  Lake  Pepin, 
that  surpassingly  lovely  sheet  of  water  beneath  whose 
placid  surface  the  great  volume  of  the  Mississippi's 
waters  flows  for  twenty-eight  miles  without  causing 
the  slightest  current  to  appear  on  the  surface.  More 
than  three  miles  wide  at  its  broadest  part,  it  is  lined, 
on  both  the  Wisconsin  and  Minnesota  shores,  the 
greater  part  of  the  way,  with  lofty  bluffs,  clad  with 
forests  which  cover  them  during  the  vernal  season  in 
a  mantle  of  beauty,  except  at  intervals,  where  the 
precipitous  sides  show  masses  of  smooth  rock  that 
remind  one  of  the  Palisades  on  the  lower  Hudson. 
The  night  was  cloudy,  and  the  full  moon,  struggling 
occasiomally  through  the  mists,  lent  iplendor  to  the 
scene.  Most  of  the  passengers  remained  on  the  decks 
after  the  usual  hour  for  retiring,  entranced  by  the 
beauty  of  water,  shore  and  sky.  Little  did  any  of  the 
happy  throng  imagine  how  soon  their  feelings  would 
change  to  consternation  and  terror  ! 

Some  say  it  was  a  cyclone  ;  others  believe  it  to  have 
been  a  waterspout  Whatever  it  was,  its  like  never 
was  seen  on  Lake  Peoin  before  or  since,  within  the 


•DUX  SAT  IT   WAS  A  OTOLOn. 

memory  of  civilized  man.  Shortly  before  the 
was  to  make  her  landing  at  Lake  City,  on  the  Minne- 
sota shore,  a  storm  cloud  burst  and  rain  descended 
npon  her  with  terrific  fury.  Water  came  down,  not  in 
drops,  but  as  if  poured  from  gigantic  pitchers.  The 
passengers  fled  precipitately  into  the  cabin.  Hardly 
had  they  reached  that  shelter  every  one  who  had  been 
on  deck  being  drenched  to  the  skin,  when  the  rain 
turned  to  hail,  the  stones  being  of  a  size  to  break  all 
the  glass  of  the  windows  and  arouse  fears  lest  they 
should  dash  in  the  roofs.  Immediately  after  this,  a 
resistless  tornado  struck  the  steamer  and,  in  spite  of 
engines  and  rudder,  bore  her  rapidly  toward  the  Wis- 
consin shore. 

The  heavenly  pyrotechnics  which  accompanied  this 
exhibition  will  never  be  forgotten  by  those  who  wit- 
nessed them.  The  sky  was  ablaze.  Deafening  thun- 
der came  in  crash  after  crash,  each  seeming  louder 
than  the  one  preceding.  The  gale  was  terrible.  A 
Mississippi  steamer  is  not  built  for  severe  storms  of 
this  nature,  and  pieces  of  the  boat  went  whirling 
through  the  atmosphere  like  so  many  feathers.  She 
careened  several  times  so  badly  that  fears  were  rife 
she  would  upset  in  mid-lake.  No  one  could  keep  his 
feet  without  holding  to  some  support.  Screams  of 
women  and  children  added  to  *he  horrors  of  the  affair. 
The  boat  was  swept  on  by  the  southeasterly  wind  up 
the  lake  and  still  nearer  the  opposite  bank. 

The  rain  and  hail  stopped  as  suddenly  as  they 
began,  but  the  wind  increased  in  violence,  and,  as  the 
steamer  seemed  likely  to  strike  bottom  soon,  the  pas- 
sengers again  sought  the  decks,  to  be  ready  for 
emergencies. 


•TO  aoioE  SAY  n  WAI  A  OTCLCHB. 

In  the  midst  of  the  excitement  Cora  became  sep^« 
rated  from  Mrs.  Wilkins.  She  passed  moments  oj 
intense  alarm.  Death  seemed  imminent.  She  knew 
nothing  of  the  depth  of  the  lake,  but  she  could  not 
swim  a  yard  and  believed  the  sinking  of  the  boat  only 
a  question  of  minutes.  She  thought  of  her  baby  and 
was  glad  he  was  safe.  She  thought  of  her  husband 
and  a  tear — yes,  a  tear — fell  for  him.  Thoughts  of 
Belle,  of  Jessie  and  of  all  the  rest  flashed  rapidly 
through  her  mind.  She  believed  they  would  be  sorry 
to  learn  she  was  dead. 

When  the  other  passengers  rushed  back  to  tha 
decks  she  followed  them,  but  was  caught  by  the  gale 
before  she  could  find  a  support  to  cling  to.  As  the 
element  whirled  her  toward  the  starboard  side,  from 
whence  the  rails  had  long  since  been  wrenched  by  the 
storm,  she  caught  one  glimpse  of  Elton  ;  and,  as  the 
tornado  swept  her  like  a  thistle-down  toward  the  lash- 
ing waves,  she  cried,  in  a  terror-stricken  voice  : 

"  Oh,  Jack  !     Save  me  !     Save  me  !" 

The  next  instant  she  was  in  the  water.  It  engulfed 
her  at  first  and  she  felt  the  initial  pangs  of  those  who 
drown.  How  dark  it  was  under  there !  How  the 
water  roared  in  her  ears!  HDW  it  strangled  her  in 
throat  and  nostrils  !  Then  she  got  a  sight  of  the  sky 
Again  and  a  breath  of  the  air  which  seemed  so  sweet ; 
and  then  she  felt  herself  sinking  once  more,  with  her 
soaking  clothes  dragging  her  down,  down — in  spite  of 
her  frantic  struggles  to  bear  herself  up  a  little  longer  ; 
and  then,  when  hope  was  about  to  depart,  a  strong 
hand  seized  her. 

It  was  Jack's  hand.  She  could  not  see  him  ;  her 
eyes  were  blinded  with  the  water  and  she  was  dizzy  ; 


WHXBX   WXNOBA   LXAJnED  TO   DEATH.  971 

but  she  knew  it  was  Jack's  hand :  and  a  feeling  of  iafi 
nite  security  stole  over  her  sonl  as  she  fell  into  tin- 
consciousness. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

WHKRX    WENONA    LEAPED    TO   DEATH. 

When  Elton  plunged  into  the  angry  waves  of  tha 
lake  and  caught  the  drowning  woman  by  her  drenched 
garments,  he  had  no  time  to  form  any  idea  beyond 
the  briefest  thought  that  she  was  perishing  and 
that  he  might  save  her  or  die  with  her.  She  was 
BO  longer  his  sweetheart ;  she  was  another  man's  wife; 
he  had  no  hope  that  Destiny  would  change  its  ruth- 
less decision.  But  the  storm  had  swept  her  over- 
board,  and  her  last  words  were  a  cry  for  his  aid. 

It  seemed  probable  that  the  rapidly  drifting  steam- 
er would  reach  them  the  next  moment  and  crush 
them  both  under  her  black  hull.  Luckily  this  did  not 
happen,  for  two  reasons:  First,  the  part  of  the  deck 
from  which  the  accident  occurred  was  near  the  stern  ; 
and,  second,  by  an  apparently  miraculous  veering  of 
the  wind,  the  boat  was  arrested  in  her  course  and 
turned  in  an  opposite  direction.  Those  of  the  crew 
and  passengers  who  witnessed  the  accident  were  pow- 
erless to  render  the  slightest  aid.  It  was  a  time  when 
individual  safety  seemed  the  only  thing  worth  seeking, 
and  the  securing  of  even  that  was  doubtful.  The  boat 
drifted  rapidly  up  the  lake  and  now  headed  again  for 
the  Minnesota  shore,  while  Elton  sought  with  his  bur- 
den to  reach  the  Wisconsin  side. 


§71  WTO*  Wf&CXA   ZJUPXD  TO  DXAOL 

It  was  a  terrible  struggle.  The  tempest  had 
lashed  the  waves  into  a  fury.  Few  men  could  have 
saved  themselves,  to  say  nothing  of  carrying  with 
them  an  inert  body.  The  occasional  brief  brighten- 
ings  of  the  sky,  caused  by  the  remains  of  the  electrical 
disturbance,  showed  Elton  in  which  direction  to  bend 
his  energies.  Otherwise  he  would  have  been  as  likely 
to  swim  further  out  as  toward  land.  But  the  wind  was 
now  against  him,  and  the  water  chilled  him  through 
aad  through. 

For  many  minutes  he  fought  these  contrary  elements 
and  then  found  his  strength  failing.  Could  he  have 
both  arms  free  it  would  be  easy  to  save  his  own  life, 
as  the  shore  was  steadily  growing  nearer.  He  knew 
he  could  not  support  Cora  much  longer.  It  was  doubt- 
ful if  life  still  remained  in  her  still  form.  In  spite  of 
all  his  efforts  the  waves  had  dashed  a  hundred  times 
over  her  head.  Being  conscious,  he  could  suspend 
breathing  until  they  subsided,  but  she  was  powerless 
to  do  so.  Should  he  sacrifice  himself  to  carry  ashore 
a  dead  body  ?  Such  thoughts — who  can  help  his 
thoughts  ? — came  into  Elton's  mind,  but  they  were 
instantly  dismissed.  He  would  save  both  or  neither  ? 
He  would  carry  the  woman  to  the  land,  dead  or  alive, 
or  sink  with  her ! 

In  that  awful  hour  Jack  Elton  knew,  if  he  had 
doubted  it  before,  that  his  love  had  suffered  no  abate- 
ment with  the  lapse  of  years. 

At  last  his  strength  gave  out.  He  felt  that  he  could 
bear  up  no  longer  and,  with  a  prayer  to  Heaven,  he 
resigned  his  exhausted  form  to  the  greedy  waters. 
He  threw  his  swimming  arm  around  Cora  and  brought 
her  face  close  to  his.  A  momentary  flash  of  lightning 
showed  him  the  pale  features  and  the  closed  eyes. 


mnrovi.  LEAFED  TO  BEATK.         S73 

The  sight  gave  him  a  chill  greater  than  that  of  the  icy 
waves.  They  were  sinking  together  !  His  last  hope 
of  life  was  gone  ! 

Was  it  a  miracle  !  his  feet  touched  sand.  He  had 
swum  into  the  shallows.  They  might  yet  be  saved  ! 
He  held  up  the  quiet  form  by  his  side  and  struggled 
slowly  on.  A  few  minutes  later  he  felt  a  joyful  sensa- 
tion as  he  found  himself  on  higher  ground.  The  water 
was  only  to  his  waist. 

He  paused  to  rest,  with  a  devout  expression  of 
gratitude.  It  was  pitch  dark  all  about  him.  The 
waters  dashed  against  his  tired  frame  with  unlessened 
violence. 

Until  now  he  had  given  no  thought  to  his  surround- 
ings. He  had  no  idea  on  what  particular  part  of  those 
once  well-known  shores  he  had  been  cast.  He  took 
long  breaths  and  waited.  It  was  useless  to  take 
another  step  until  he  could  tell  where  it  would  lead 
him.  All  he  knew  was  that  he  must  be  on  the  Wis- 
consin side.  He  hoped  he  might  be  near  the  village 
of  Pepin,  or  the  hamlet  of  Stockholm,  but  the  absence 
of  a  single  light  glimmering  through  the  darkness  gave 
little  encouragement  to  such  thoughts. 

As  he  waited,  the  atmosphere  was  suddenlly  illu- 
mined for  miles  with  the  electrical  current,  and  he  saw 
everything  plainly.  The  steamer  he  had  left  was  five 
or  six  miles  from  him.  Lake  City,  Florence,  Fronte- 
nac  and  other  places  could  be  discerned  more  easily 
than  at  mid-day,  and  all  were  far  out  of  reach.  But 
what  most  interested  the  weary  man  was  the  majestic 
front  of  the  Maiden  Rock,  looking  down  on  him,  less 
than  a  mile  away,  across  a  stretch  of  submerged 
marshes,  which  could  not  be  unfordable  at  tnis  season. 

The  village  named  for  the  Roek  was  about  fouf 


174  WKEBS  WXVOHA  LK4TKD  TO  fiSATX. 

miles  off.  The  Rock  itself  would  have  suggested  noth* 
ing  of  value  to  the  ordinary  traveler  in  such  an  emer- 
gency as  this.  To  Elton,  however,  it  suggested  much. 
For,  in  one  of  its  precipitous  sides  was  the  secret  cave 
where  he  had  played  as  a  boy,  and  in  which  were  still, 
without  doubt,  the  housekeeping  utensils  he  had  left 
there. 

As  he  thought  of  this,  renewed  strength  came  into 
his  frame.  He  raised  Cora's  inanimate  form  in  his 
arms  and  plunged  bravely  into  the  marsh  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  Rock. 

It  was  a  weary  road.  The  water  alternated  in 
depth  as  he  proceeded.  Sometimes  it  was  only  to  hi» 
knees  ;  again  it  was  to  his  armpits  and  again  to  his 
neck.  At  times  he  had  to  lift  Cora's  body  above  his 
head  and,  great  as  was  his  ordinary  strength,  he  found 
it  difficult  to  do  this  in  his  present  semi-exhausted  con- 
dition. When  the  water  reached  only  to  his  waist,  he 
frequently  shifted  his  burden  from  one  shoulder  to 
the  other  to  rest  himself,  holding  her  as  a  mother 
sometimes  does  a  babe  which  she  would  put  to  sleep, 
with  her  cold,  wet  face  lying  against  his.  When  there 
was  a  long  interval  of  darkness,  he  would  wait  until 
another  flash  showed  him  the  nearest  road.  Once  or 
twice  he  stepped  into  deep  places  where  he  had  to 
8  wim  for  a  moment  before  he  could  find  footing. 

So  long  as  he  found  the  Rock  growing  nearer,  he 
was  not  discouraged.  At  last  he  reached  its  base  and 
rested  for  a  moment  on  unsubmerged  ground  befoie  he 
essayed  the  difficult  ascent. 

The  traveler  who  climbs  Maiden  Rock  ia  the  best 
ot  weather,  from  the  water  side,  must  of  necessity  g« 
slow.  Ht  will  have  cause  to  avail  himself  of  all  Uu 
aids  which  a  stout  alpenstock  and  the  out-cropping 


•71 

bushes  afford.  When  he  reaches  the  summit  he  need 
not  be  ashamed  to  own  that  he  is  tired.  To  achieve 
the  same  result  with  an  inert  burden  of  one  hundred 
and  fifteen  pounds,  after  two  hours  submersion  la 
chilling  waters,  is  a  feat  to  boast  of ;  but  Eltom 
finally  accomplished  it,  and  at  the  entrance  to  his 
cave  he  laid  down  his  load  for  the  first  time. 

He  soon  found  the  stone  which  he  had  used  U>  hide 
the  doorway.  The  trouble  which  he  experienced  in 
dislodging  it  from  the  earth  convinced  him  that  no 
one  had  disturbed  it  in  his  long  absence.  After  rail- 
ing it  to  one  side  he  let  himself  down  into  the  aper- 
ture and  explored  the  interior  of  the  cave  to  make 
sure  that  all  was  secure  and  that  no  offensive  or 
dangerous  creature  had  made  its  home  there.  From 
the  pocket  of  his  coat  he  produced  a  tight  matchbox  and 
struck  a  light.  To  his  joy  he  found  a  candle  lying  oa 
a  shelf  which  he  had  built,  and  in  a  moment  it* 
welcome  beams  lit  up  the  rude  apartment. 

Everything  was  as  he  had  left  it.  The  rough  bed, 
made  of  skins  stretched  from  staples  in  the  rocky 
walls ;  the  fireplace  of  loosely  cemented  stones ;  the 
copper  kettle  and  other  implements  of  cookery  ;  the 
old  chest,  filled  with  a  score  of  articles  useful  to  th« 
woodsman,  as  well  as  many  other  well  remembered 
things,  were  hailed  with  deep  satisfaction.  He  ran 
back  to  fetch  Cora  into  the  room,  securing  the  entrance 
as  before.  Then  he  took  the  candle  and  peered  iat3 
the  woman's  face,  with  a  feeling  ia  Tbich  fear,  hop* 
and  awe  were  inextricably  mixed. 

Was  sfu  dtadl 

There  wa£  no  apparent  movement  to  the  chest. 
The  eyes  were  tightly  closed. 

He  bent  *n  ear  to  listen  at  her  heart     If  it  was 


S76  WKXBK   WBfOHA   LIAPED  TO   DXATM. 


beating,  the  sound  was  very  faint  indeed.     He  could 
not  tell 

Dr.  Elton  had  been  in  hospitals  where,  without  a 
tremor  of  the  hand,  he  had  cut  with  skill  into  the  tea- 
derest  parts  of  the  human  anatomy.  He  knew  the 
entire  science  of  restoring  persons  who  have  been 
subjected  to  immersion  in  water  for  too  long  a  period. 
He  was  a  physician  with  a  fame  that  had  risen  in  the 
last  year  beyond  precedent.  Here  was  an  opportunity 
to  test  the  skill  of  which  men  prated.  Of  all  things, 
he  loved  best  to  undertake  apparently  hopeless  cases 

Why  did  he  hesitate  t 

There  was  but  one  way  to  save  Cora's  life,  if  indeed 
it  was  not  already  past  saving.  He  knew  of  no  resi- 
dence within  a  longdistance.  To  go  for  aid  to  either 
of  the  nearest  villages  would  take  hours.  She  had 
been  exposed  to  the  dangers  of  her  drenched  condition 
for  too  great  a  time  as  it  was.  He  was  as  wet  as  she, 
but  he  did  not  think  of  that.  His  constitution  was 
strong,  hers  delicate.  He  had  no  fear  for  himself. 
Had  it  come  te  a  choice  between  his  life  and  hers,  he 
would  not  have  given  a  moment  to  the  decision. 

She  lay  there  perishing,  when  he  had  the  skill  and 
knowledge  which  might  save  her. 

Why  did  he  waitf 

This  was  the  reason  :  His  only  hope  of  restoring 
her  suspended  animation  lay  in  removing  her  clothing, 
He  shrank  from  an  act  which,  however  praiseworthy 
in  itself,  seemed  like  a  profanation  of  her  person. 

It  was  but  a  few  minutes  that  Dr.  Elton  waited. 
He  went  to  the  entrance  of  the  cave  and  looked  out. 
The  sky  was  black  as  jet,  and  the  rain  was  again  d« 
•ceading  in  torrents 


WXKH  WXHOJTA   LKAPXD   TO   DIATX.  577 

There  was  but  one  way,  if  Cora's  life  was  to  be 
saved. 

The  lover,  with  his  scruples,  vanished.  The  con- 
scientious physician  took  his  place  ! 

Hastily  he  collected  the  available  fuel  and  started 
a  fire.  He  took  the  copper  kettle  outside  and,  aftet 
filling  it  with  water  from  a  little  stream  made  by  the 
storm,  hung  it  in  its  place  over  the  blazing  fagots.  He 
held  the  blankets  and  robes  of  the  bed  before  the 
flames  until  they  were  thoroughly  heated  and  then  re- 
placed them.  Then  he  knelt  by  the  still  form  on  the 
floor,  and,  nerving  himself  for  the  effort,  began  as  rapid- 
ly as  possible  to  disrobe  it 

It  was  an  unaccustomed  task  for  his  fingers.  A 
gold  breastpin,  studded  with  jewels,  made  him  some 
trouble,  but  he  disentangled  it.  He  unfastened  the 
soaked  collar  and  unbuttoned  the  waist.  The  sleeves 
were  so  tight  that  he  had  nearly  decided  to  cut  them, 
when  at  last  he  hit  upon  the  correct  plan  of  drawing 
them  down  from  the  top.  He  proceeded  but  slowly 
after  that,  through  wholly  unfamiliar  ground,  but  the 
work  gradually  neared  completion.  The  boots  were 
shrunken  by  the  water  and  came  off  with  great  diffi- 
culty. 

When  half  way  through  Dr.  Elton  bethought  him- 
iclf  of  a  flask  of  brandy  in  one  of  his  pockets.  It  was 
a  Godsend  !  He  mixed  some  of  the  liquor  with  hot 
water  and  poured  it  down  Cora's  throat,  forcing  the 
teeth  apart,  and  giving  it  in  spoonful  doses.  When  it 
had  time  to  take  effect  he  applied  his  ear  again  to  the 
heart  Joy  of  joys  !  it  was  beating  ! 

When  he  had  removed  the  last  vestige  of  clothing 
from  the  sleeper,  he  took  cloths  and  hot  water  and 
begaa  to  rub  her  briskly.  All  his  timidity  had  van* 


171          WMXBX  wnrovA  LXAHD  TO  DBATM. 

ished.  She  lived  !  The  delight  of  the  true  physician 
who  has  called  back  a  departing  spirit  filled  his  soul. 
He  forgot  who  she  was — what  she  had  been  to  him. 
He  saw  only  a  patient  whose  vitality  he  might 
restore. 

After  thoroughly  rubbing  her  with  the  hot  water 
and  towels — and  that  delicate  skin  had  never  before 
experienced  such  necessary  roughness  of  contact — he 
lifted  her  in  his  arms  and  laid  her  on  the  couch,  rolling 
her  in  the  hot  blankets  and  placing  a  great  pile  of 
robes  and  skins  upon  her.  The  fire  diffused  a  plea»- 
ant  temperature  through  the  apartment  He  ttx*k 
several  hot  stones  from  the  hearth,  wrapped  them  in 
blankets  and  placed  them  at  her  feet.  He  gathered 
her  long,  damp  hair  back  from  her  shoulders,  luid 
bound  a  towel  around  her  head  to  keep  it  from  chill- 
ing her.  He  gave  her  more  of  the  brandy  and  water, 
and  was  glad  to  find  her  teeth  clenched  less  tightly. 
Her  breathing  was  clearly  perceptible.  He  experienced 
a  great  exultation  ! 

Not  till  then  did  he  devote  a  moment  to  himself. 
The  hot  air  of  the  room  enveloped  him  in  a  cloud  of 
steam.  He  examined  the  cave  more  carefully  and 
found  a  suit  of  rough  farmer-clothes,  abandoned  when 
he  was  a  penniless  plowman.  He  improvised  a  curtain 
across  a  corner  of  the  cave  and  retired  there  to  change 
his  garments,  which  were  nearly  as  hard  to  remove  as 
Cora's.  Rough  as  was  his  appearance,  he  experienced 
a  sensation  of  comfort  as  he  donned  the  old  suit.  It 
was  dry  and  it  was  warm. 

When  he  returned  to  Cora,  she  was  sleeping  quietly. 
M Tired  nature's  sweet  restorer"  was  doing  better 
work  for  her  than  he  could  now. 

Dr.  Elton  resumed  his  labors.     He  wrung  the  water 


*  On   KQM    BXTOXB  T0V   «0  P  fT& 

cut  of  her  garments  and  his  own  and  hung  them 
where  they  would  dry.  He  filled  the  kettle  again  and 
hung  it  over  the  fire.  He  heated  the  stones  at  Cora's 
feet  once  more  and  tucked  the  blankets  close  about 
her.  Then  he  sat  down  and  tried  to  think. 

What  should  he  do  when  she  awoke  ? 

He  could  not  leave  her  till  then.  She  must  be 
conscious  enough  to  hear  and  understand  him  before 
he  could  walk  to  a  village  and  get  medicines  and 
summon  assistance. 

What  should  he  say  to  her  ? 

What  would  she  say  to  him  f 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

"  ON*   KISS  BKFORK  YOU  GO." 

His  watch  had  stopped  and  so  had  hers  also.  Ho 
did  not  know  what  time  it  was,  but  felt  sure  morning 
could  not  be  far  off.  The  rain  still  poured  down, 
though  not  so  severely.  He  could  brave  it,  if  neces- 
sary, when  day  broke.  Would  she  be  afraid  to  stay 
there  alsne  while  he  was  gone  ?  Or  w«uld  she  be 
aiore  afraid  to  find  him  there,  when  she  realized  where 
she  was  and  what  he  had  been  obliged  to  do  to  save 
her  life  ? 

He  turned  to  look  at  his  patient.  Her  eyes  were 
wide  open  and  bent  upon  him.  As  he  started  up, 
unnerved  by  the  unexpected  sight,  she  tried  to  speak, 
but  could  not.  He  gave  her  a  drink  of  brandy  and 
water,  kneeling  by  the  bedside  to  administer  it  She 


J80  "  OH  KIM   BEFOSX   YOU   00  P 

took  the  restorative  gratefully  and  soon  afterward 
drew  one  hand  from  its  concealment  and  placed  it  mi 
his  shoulder. 

"Jack,"  she  whispered,  "shall  I  die  here  ?" 

No  other  words  could  have  chained  him  there. 
Perhaps,  he  thought  with  a  thrill  of  anguish,  it  might 
be  so.  She  had  had  a  great  shock.  In  spite  of  all  he 
had  done,  it  was  not  unlikely,  from  a  medical  point  of 
view,  to  prove  fatal. 

"  If  I  do,"  she  added,  gently,  "  I  shall  not  be  sorry. 
I  am  willing  to  die,  with  you  /" 

He  turned  his  face  away  to  hide  the  emotion  which 
he  could  not  prevent  obtaining  a  momentary  mastery 
of  him. 

"You  will  not  die,  Cora,"  was  the  first  thing  he 
found  strength  to  say,  in  broken  accents.  "  Forgive 
me  for  what  I  had  to  do.  You  were  perishing  in  your 
garments,  soaked  for  two  hours  in  the  floods.  It 
would  have  been  impossible  to  save  you  without 
removing  them.  There  was  no  help  to  be  had.  You 
will  not  die  ;  you  must  not !  I  will  go  now  for  medi- 
cines and  for  women  who  will  dress  you  in  dry  clothes 
and  take  you  hence." 

She  caressed  his  burning  face  with  her  hand. 

"  I  am  glad  it  was  you,  Jack.  If  it  had  been  any 
one  else  I  could  not  have  borne  it  Where  are  we  ?" 

"  In  that  cave  of  mine,  in  Maiden  Rock,  of  which  I 
used  to  tell  you,"  he  replied. 

He  did  not  know  if  he  ought  to  kneel  there,  so 
close  to  her,  but  he  had  not  the  strength  of  purpose  to 
leave. 

"How  did  you  get  me  here?  I  remember  being 
blown  into  the  water,  and  that  some  strong  hand, 


"  on  HH  BKTOBI  YOU  oo  f  SSI 

which  I  felt  was  yours,  seized  me  as  I  was  sinking 
Was  that  hours  ago  ?  It  seems  but  a  few  minutes," 

Then  he  told  me  briefly  what  had  passed. 

"  And  you  carried  me  all  that  weary  distance  ?"  she 
said,  her  voice  trembling.  "  You,  Jack,  after  all  I  have 
done  to  make  you  unhappy  ?" 

She  wept  softly  for  a  little  while  and  he  kept  repeat- 
ing that  what  he  had  done  was  not  worth  talking  of, 
and  that  he  only  regretted  his  inability  to  serve  her 
better.  When  her  tears  ceased  he  rose  and  spoke  of 
what  lay  hardest  upon  his  mind. 

"  I  shall  go,  as  soon  as  it  is  light  enough,  to  get 
help  for  you.  As  soon  as  the  effect  of  your  shock  is 
over,  you  will  recover  rapidly,  I  am  sure.  You  have 
come  out  of  your  sleep  in  better  condition  that  I  could 
have  believed  possible.  But  there  is  something  else 
for  us  to  consider  that  is  of  even  greater  importance. 
We  must  do  all  we  can  to  avert  talk.  There  will  be 
busy  tongues  over  this  affair.  That  is  the  worst  phase 
of  it." 

Cora  studied  his  face  as  he  spoke. 

"  What  can  they  say  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Anything  they  please  to  imagine,"  he  replied. 
"  We  must  look  it  squarely  in  the  face.  If  anybody  has 
been  saved  from  the  steamer — and  I  am  inclined  to 
think  it  outrode  the  storm — the  world  will  know  that 
you  fell  overboard  and  that  I  sprang  after  you.  When 
I  find  help  among  the  people  near  here  thty  will  un- 
derstand that  I  brought  you  to  this  care — which  I  can 
ao  longer  conceal — and  that  we  passed  hours  here 
together.  We  must  be  ready  to  meet  the  most  terrible 
suspicions.  Society  is  apt  to  be  very  cruel !" 

She  wrapped  the  blankets  closer  about  her  form 


282  *  era  xui  BBTOBX  TOT?  «o  I"  ] 

and,  at  her  request,  he  raised  her  head  a  little  upo« 
an  improvised  pillow. 

"  What  shall  we  do  r"  she  asked. 

Her  tone  was  one  of  complete  confidence  la  kit 
judgment  It  was  well  that  way.  She  would  leave  if 
all  to  him. 

"  Your  clothes  are  nearly  dry,"  he  answered.  *  1 
hung  them  up  as  best  I  could.  After  I  am  gone  you 
must  put  them  on  again  and  say  you  dried  them  on 
you  at  the  fire.  I  will  take  mine,  change  them  in  the 
woods,  and  tell  the  same  story.  That  will  give  the 
gossips  at  least  one  thing  less  to  talk  about" 

She  smiled  at  him  sadly. 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  falsify  ?  You,  who  were 
always  the  most  scrupulous  of  truth-tellers  !" 

"It  is  the  lesser  of  two  evils,"  he  responded.  "I 
despise  a  lie,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  above  all 
things.  Here  we  have  no  choice.  You  must  see  that" 

She  drew  a  deep  breath  and  then  cried — 

"Oh,  Jack,  I  see  nothing  but  that  you  are  here — 
that  we  are  alone — and  that  I  am  very  happy  !" 

A  deep  shadow  crossed  Dr.  Elton's  features.  He 
walked  to  the  entrance  of  the  cave  and  found  that  it 
was  growing  lighter  outside  and  that  the  rain  had 
ceased.  When  he  returned  his  countenance  bore  a 
stern  expression,  which  Cora  did  not  like  to  behold. 

"It  is  light  enough  to  go,  now,"  he  said,  curtly, 
"and  it  is  necessary  that  I  should  seek  the  earliest 
possible  aid  for  you.  It  may  be  two  or  three  houn 
before  I  return.  Dress  yourself  and  wait  for  me." 

He  took  his  clothing  from  the  line,  and  had  started 
,,j  go,  when  she  interrupted  him. 

"  I  can't  get  into  my  clothes,  Jack  •  it  would  be 
dangerous  for  me.  They  are  partly  dry,  t  is  true,  but 


M  on  KU  Bxrous  YOU  eo  1"  983 

•till  very  damp.  Pneumonia  might  result  I  am  sure 
it  would  endanger  my  life.  If  you  wish  to  save  me, 
don't  insist  on  that." 

*  But  what  can  we  do  ?"  he  asked  in  a  disheartened 
way. 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  she  said.  "  You  can  go  and  find 
some  farmer's  wife  who  will  sell  you  a  complete  outfit 
— her  best  one,  perhaps.  The  price  being  no  object, 
you  will  have  Mttle  trouble.  There  is  plenty  of  money 
m  my  pocketbook  there.  Tell  her  you  want  every- 
thing that  a  woman  wears — I  cannot  put  on  one  of  my 
things  without  great  risk.  Then  hire  a  team  and 
come  as  near  here  as  you  can  drive.  Being  me  the 
clothes — I  will  dress  in  them — we  will  be  driven  to  the 
nearest  railroad  station  and  get  as  soon  as  possible  to 
St  Paul.  Be  sure  to  buy  a  thick  veil,  so  that  no  one 
will  recognize  me.  Perhaps  we  can  get  word  to  the 
steamer  people  before  they  announce  our  loss  in  the 
papers.  If  not,  we  can  wire  our  friends  to-day  that 
we  got  ashore  all  right.  Nobody  will  know  that  w« 
were  ever  in  this  cave  together,  and  all  will  be  well. 
Believe  me,  a  woman's  plan  is  always  the  best." 

He  thought  it  over  and  seeaed  imclined  to  her 
opinion. 

"  I  suppose  there  is  no  doubt  I  can  buy  the  clothes," 
he  said,  thoughtfully.  "  Well,  I  will  do  the  best  I  can. 
I  have  money  enough,  though  it  is  pretty  damp.  The 
wet  clothes  would  be  bad  for  you." 

He  put  extra  fuel  on  the  fire,  bade  her  keep  well 
covered,  and  was  about  to  depart  for  the  secomd  trme, 
when  she  called  his  name  again  : 

"Jack!" 

He  paused. 

11  Don't  leave  me  like  this  !"  she  cried.    "  You  haw 


9$4  "  OKI   ZI8i  ZOOMS  YOU  «O  I* 

saved  my  life !  It  was  no  acudtnt  of  travel,  but  the 
resistless  hand  of  Fate  that  threw  us  together  on  the 
sane  steamer  on  that  awful  night !  Forget  your  cruel 
principles  for  one  brief  moment  and  be  yourself !  I 
ask  so  very  little  !  Give  me  one  kiss  before  you  go !" 

He  drew  himself  up  and  clasped  his  hands  tightly 
over  his  eyes. 

"  Just  one  !  Just  one,  to  blot  out  all  the  frightful 
pain  I  have  endured  because  of  my  love  for  you  ;  to 
mark  one  bright  spot  in  the  long  months  of  suffering  I 
have  passed,  and  must  still  pass,  because  I  am  the  wife 
of  one  man,  while  I  love  another ;  to  remind  me  of 
those  happy  hours  which  we  spent  together  at  Cam- 
bridge before  all  this  trouble  came  between  us  ;  to 
give  me  strength  to  live  and  bear  the  burden  which  is 
almost  too  great  for  me  !  Just  one,  Jack  !" 

His  voice  shook  as  he  answered  : 

"  Do  you  think  /  have  not  suffered  also  ?  Do  you 
think  it  was  easy  for  me  to  give  up  the  dearest  thing 
in  my  life?  There  are  things  a  man  must  bear. 
There  are  things  an  honest  man  cannot  do.  One  of 
them  you  have  asked,  and  I  must  not  listen  to  you." 

Her  face  grew  whiter. 

"  How  long  must  I  endure  this  ?" 

"Till  death  !"  he  said.  "  Was  not  that  your  obli- 
gation ?" 

"  Then  let  it  come  now  !"  cried  Cora.  "  Why  did 
you  save  me  from  the  waves  to  kill  me  with  a  greater 
cruelty  ?  You  have  held  me  to  your  heart  through  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  !  You  have  restored  me  my  life, 
»t  the  risk  of  your  own  !  You  have  a  right  to  claim 
me.  If  you  loved  me  with  one  tithe  of  the  affection 
you  profess,  you  would  never  let  me  go,  but  all  I  asked 
was  one  kiss  and  yeu  refused  it !  Now,  hear  what  I 


"  OR  xxas  BKBOSX  Tou  oo !"  aSS 

•ay :  I  will  never  leave  this  place  !  Yours  were  the 
last  hands  to  touch  me,  and  your  boyhood's  play-house 
shall  be  my  tomb !" 

She  settled  herself  resolutely  in  her  wrappings  and 
turned  her  face  from  him.  A  groan  burst  from  hit 
lips. 

"  I  cannot  even  let  you  die  !"  he  cried.  u  If  you 
persist,  I  must  send  people  to  find  and  succour  you. 
Think  before  you  entail  needless  misery  on  yourself, 
on  your  family  and  on  me." 

She  turned  toward  him  and  spoke  with  vehemence : 

"  I  am  resolved  !  You  are  stubborn  in  your  deci- 
sions ;  so  am  I !  Leave  me  in  this  way  and  you  will 
never  find  me  alive  !  I  can  throw  myself  from  this 
rock  as  well  as  Wenona  !" 

He  hardly  believed  she  would  do  it,  and  yet  he 
was  afraid  to  go.  He  walked  to  the  entrance  of  the 
cave  and  was  startled  to  hear  voices. 

"  Yes,  it  is  real  smoke,"  one  was  saying,  "  rising  out 
of  the  rock.  There  must  be  a  nearly  extinct  volcano 
under  this  bluff.  The  phenomenon  may  be  connected 
with  the  dreadful  storm.  I  shall  write  an  article  about 
it  for  the  Scientific  Monthly." 

Dr.  Elton  stepped  back  hastily  and  extinguished 
the  fire  on  his  hearth.  When  he  returned  to  the 
entrance  the  voices  had  ceased.  The  visitors  had  evi- 
dently gone. 

"  What  will  yon  do  ?"  he  asked  the  mute  figure  oa 
the  bed.  "  Use  reason  !" 

The  determined  voice  answered: 

"I  have  asked  but  one  thing.  Vou  ask  many. 
So  long  as  you  refuse  I  shall  do  the  same  !" 

"  But  I  camnot  do  it !'  be  groaned.    "You  know  I 


f§6  M  OKI  KIM  XXFOBK  TOU   OO  I" 

cannot !    It  would  be  the  height  of   wrong  f    It   h 
impossible  !" 

She  startled  him  by  suddenly  rising  to  a  sitting 
posture,  the  bed-clothes  falling  in  a  heap  to  her 
waiit. 

"  Do  as  you  will  !"  she  cried,  bitterly.  "  You  have 
made  me  wild  !  Why  do  you  hide  your  face  ?  Look 
at  me,  if  you  like !  What  do  I  care  !  Shame — I  have 
none  !  All  the  blood  in  my  heart  has  turned  to  vine- 
gar !  I  awoke  here  at  peace  with  myself  and  all 
mankind  ;  now  I  am  desperate  !  What  T  shall  became 
when  I  go  forth  no  one  can  tell !  But  one  thing  has 
sustained  me — my  deep  love  for  you  !  I  had  no  one 
in  the  wide  world  who  was  so  dear  to  me  !  There  is 
a  little  sister,  who  will  never  hear  of  me  except  to 
blush  !  There  is  a  child  who  will  be  taught  to  forget 
his  mother's  name*  When  you  hear  of  me  after 
this — in  whatever  depths  I  may  have  sunk — remem- 
ber it  was  you  who  brought  me  there — y<m  i  YOU  !  .• 
YOU  !  !  !" 

Her  voice  grew  louder  and  louder  as  she  uttered 
the  last  sentence  and  she  took  a  step  toward  him. 
Then  she  fell  at  his  feet  in  a  dead  faint. 

Dr.  Elton  could  bear  no  more.  His  strong  nerves 
shook  and  besought  the  outer  air.  He  had  exhausted 
his  expedients.  He  first  sought  a  place  to  change  his 
cloihes,  and  then  started  down  the  hillside,  bent  on 
finding  help.  He  had  gone  but  a  little  way  when  he 
encountered  a  woman  climbing  up  the  rocks. 

"Come  with  me,  for  God's  sake  !"  he  cried.  "A 
lady  has  gone  insane  above  there  !" 

He  pointed  to  the  summit.  For  an  instant  the 
woman  seemed  disposed  to  fly,  but  the  earnestness  oi 
his  manner  dissuaded  her.  She  muttered  something 


"  era  KIM  Birou  TOO  oo  r  M7 

in  German  to  the  effect  that  she  spoke  ae  EagUsh,  and 

he  was  able  to  answer  her  in  her  native  tongue.  She 
was  soon  led  to  understand  that  the  lady  and  himself 
had  been  upset  in  the  lake  and  had  found  shelter  in 
the  cave,  where  flight  and  exposure  had  brought  on 
dementia,  until  the  unfortunate  lady  had  begun  to  strip 
herself  of  her  clothing  and  show  other  signs  of  violent 
insanity.  Guiding  the  woman  to  the  entrance  of  the 
cave,  Dr.  Elton  showed  her  how  to  descend  into  it,  and 
could  hear  her  exclamations  of  astonishment  as  she 
came  upon  the  prostrate  body.  Obeying  his  directions, 
given  from  without,  the  woman  placed  Cora  again 
upon  the  bed,  and  set  about  restoring  her  to  conscious- 
ness, which  was  soon  accomplished.  Then  the  frau 
came  out  to  give  Elton  directions  how  to  reach  her 
own  house,  where  she  said  he  would  find  her  daughter, 
who  would  accompany  him  with  the  necessary  articles 
10  the  cave. 

He  found  the  house  oa  the  maia  road,  a  mile  or  so 
away,  and  had  just  delivered  his  errand  when  a  carriage 
came  in  sight  from  an  up-river  direction,  containing 
several  people,  one  of  whom  Elton  immediately  recog- 
nized as  Mrs.  Wilkins.  She  saw  him  at  the  same  instant, 
and  a  moment  later  knew  that  Cora  was  alive  and  within 
reach. 

It  seemed  the  steamer  had  landed  her  passengers 
safely  at  Redwing,  where  ;he  had  been  laid  off  for 
repairs.  Mrs.  Wilkins  had  taken  an  early  boat  across 
tne  lake  and  begun  her  search  for  Cora,  making 
numerous  inquiries  and  engaging  parties  at  every 
house  te  search  the  shore  for  traces  of  the  missiag 

**  I  took  Mrs.  Johnson  to  a  cave  that  I  usexl  to  us* 
a  boy,"   explained    Elton,   as    they    climbed   th* 
10 


188  "  OJOE  KBtt  BKTOBZ  YOU  «O  P* 

eminence  together,  along  with  the  German  woman't 

daughter.  "Restoration  to  consciousness  was  quite 
easily  accomplished  and  everything  seemed  going  cm 
well  when  she  was  suddenly  attacked  by  insanity,  dct 
doubtless  to  her  shock.  She  will  require  the  most 
careful  attention  for  some  days.  You  must  take  her 
as  soon  as  possible  to  St.  Paul,  where  she  can  get 
better  medical  attendance  than  can  be  secured  in  this 
vicinity.  The  rest  I  must  trust  to  your  own  judg- 
ment." 

"  But  you  will  not  leave  us  now !"  cried  Mrs. 
Wilkins.  "  I  know  Mr.  Johnson  has  perfect  confidence 
in  you  and  would  rather  you  attended  his  wife  than 
any  one  else." 

"  I  have  imperative  engagements  which  I  must  ful- 
fill," replied  Dr.  Elton,  with  a  strange  look.  "Here 
is  the  place.  Now  let  me  caution  you  about  one  thing 
more.  You  will  have  to  treat  Mrs.  Johnson  like  a 
child  in  her  present  nervous  condition.  Pretend  to 
believe  anything  she  may  say,  though  it  will  all  be 
colored,  probably,  by  her  disordered  brain.  You  will 
know  how  little  value  to  attach  to  her  imagining,  but 
you  must  not  let  her  see  that  you  disbelieve  her." 

"  How  can  we  ever  thank  you  for  saving  her  U?e  !** 
cried  Mrs.  Wilkins 

He  replied  that  it  was  nothing;  and,  as  h«  dis- 
appeared through  the  forest,  the  woman  tat*r*tf  tfcs 
cave  where  Cera  >ay. 


PAID  TWA*  nm  TBfBf  *Tf>  D0XJL4M  I       tt9 


CHAFTER  XXXI. 

WVO  PAID  THAT  TEN    THOUSAND  DOLLAJtf  ? 

Dr.  Elton  spent  but  a  few  days  longer  in  the  vicinity 
of  Lake  Pepin.  That  was  sufficient  for  a  stroll  over 
the  farms  where  he  had  toiled  and  to  inspect  the  few 
landmarks  left  by  a  rapidly  changing  civilization.  Ha 
found  that  Swedes,  Norwegians  and  Germans  were 
everywhere  taking  the  places  of  the  original  settlers. 
The  pioneers  of  Minnesota  and  Wisconsin  were  now 
the  pioneers  of  Dakota  or  Montana.  They  had  tired 
of  settled  neighborhoods  and  gone  out  to  conquer  new 
regions  of  virgin  soil.  Some  of  his  old  friends  who 
were  left  met  his  greetings  with  surprised  stares,  and 
when  they  learned  who  he  was,  accorded  him  a  hearty 
welcome.  Not  one  could  have  recognized  the  farm 
laborer  in  the  dignified,  well-dressed  physician,  so 
complete  was  the  metamorphosis. 

The  greatest  surprise  which  he  had,  however,  and 
one  which,  for  a  time,  gave  him  much  uneasiness,  was 
caused  by  a  careless  remark  dropped  by  an  old  farmer 
who  had  known  the  Elton  family  for  three  generations. 

"  You're  an  Elton,  out  and  out !"  he  said  to  the 
doctor.  "  I  knew  your  grandfather  and  all  his  four  sons. 
Elijah  and  Judah  were  killed  in  the  war — they  were 
Sac  strapping  fellows  as  ever  shouldered  a  musket 
John,  your  father — well,  he  was  never  as  strong  as  the 
rest,  and  your  mother's  death  finished  him.  He 
wasn't  himself  after  she  went  Then  there's  Jared— 
the  oaly  oae  of  the  lot  who  could  get  aay  mosey 


890        WMO  FAH>  TMAT  TOW  TMOVtAJKD  DOLLAXff 

together — he's  down  at  Keokuk,  living  an  old-bachelof 
life,  and  loaning  his  savings  out  at  twenty  per  cent." 

"You  are  mistaken  about  my  uncle  Jared,"  re- 
marked Dr  Elton.  "  He  diod  several  years  ago." 

The  old  man  stared. 

"  Well,  I  guess  not !"  he  ejaculated.  "  Don't  you 
think  I  know  Jared,  when  we  we«t  to  school  together  ? 
Why,  he  was  up  here  two  months  ago,  looking  after  a 
mortgage !  If  you  don't  believe  me,  ask  Lawyer 
Brown,  over  at  Lake  City,  or  Mr.  Hutchins,  at  whose 
house  he  stayed.  Old  Jared  dead  !  Now,  who  told 
you  such  a  yarn  as  that !" 

The  next  day  Dr.  Elton  was  at  Keokuk,  where  he 
made  inquiries  for  Jared  Elton.  Yes,  they  told  him, 
the  old  man  was  alive  and  well  on  his  farm  near  the 
city.  Dr.  Elton  drove  out  there,  still  thinking  there 
was  a  possibility  of  mistake ;  but  no,  there  was  his 
uncle,  without  doubt,  standing  in  his  doorway.  He 
introduced  himself  and  they  held  a  brief  conversation 
over  the  fence.  The  miser  did  not  ask  him  to  enter, 
fearing  that  such  a  proceeding  might  be  followed  by 
an  indefinite  stay,  to  the  danger  of  his  meagre  stock 
of  provisions.  He  remembered  when,  some  years 
before,  friends  of  his  brother's  young  orphan  had 
written  to  ask  for  aid  in  sending  the  boy  to  school  and 
he  had  returned  a  quick  refusal.  School,  indeed ! 
Wh?*  need  had  an  Elton  of  schooling  !  Jared  had 
never  been  but  two  winters,  and  had  made  more 
money  than  half  their  scholars.  Perhaps  Jack  was 
after  a  loan  now.  He  decided  to  treat  him  civilly,  but 
mot  with  too  great  familiarity. 

"  Have  you  always  been  well  r"  asked   Dr.   Elton, 
when  convinced  that  there  was  no  possibility  of 
taking  the  man  before  him. 


44  Never  sick  a  day  in  my  life,  aad  I'm  siatr-aia«," 
old  Jared.      "  So  you're  a  doctor,  eh  ?    Youf 
profession  wouldn't  get  rich  oa  such  fellows  as  me," 

He  laughed  at  the  idea,  and  Dr.  Eltom  drovt  back 
to  Keokuk. 

His  uncle  Jared  was  alive — that  umcle  from  whose 
estate  Mr.  Johnson  had  professed  to  pay  him  tea  thou- 
sand dollars  three  years  before.  What  did  it  mean  ? 
Where  could  the  money  have  come  from  ?  People 
were  not  in  the  habit  of  throwing  ten  thonsaad  dollars 
away  !  The  more  he  thought  of  it  the  more  iaexplic 
able  it  seemed. 

His  quest  was  ended  and  he  took  the  first  train  for 
New  York,  determined  to  go  at  once  to  Mr.  Johnson 
and  compel  him  to  divulge  the  source  of  this  peculiar 
bequest.  Johnson  had  sent  him  the  cablegram  inform- 
ing him  of  his  uncle's  d  iath  and  had  transferred  the 
money  to  him.  Johnson  must  be  a  party  to  the 
deceit. 

Elton's  thought  traveled  rapidly. 

Who  had  the  greatest  motive  to  lift  him  out  ef  the 
poverty  into  which  he  had  been  plunged  ? 

Was  this  not  the  result  of  a  twinge  of  conscience 
on  the  part  of  Mr  Johnson  himself,  who,  when  he 
appropriated  Cora,  thought  to  ease  his  mind  by  reliev- 
ing her  rightful  lover  in  a  pecuniary  way  ? 

Yes,  that  must  be  it  Elton  could  thlak  of  ao  other 
solution  of  the  mystery 

He  decided  to  go  directly  to  Mr.  Johasoa  aad  com- 
pel him  to  admit  the  truth.  He  was  thankful  he  had 
money  enough  in  the  bank  to  repay,  without  a  moment's 
delay,  dollar  for  dollar,  with  interest.  He  did  not 
wish  to  be  for  oae  unnecessary  second  the  debtor  of  a 


299     WHO  ria  THAT 

man  who  had  robbed  him  of  his  sweetheart  whea  ha 
was  suffering  everything  for  her  sake  in  a  foreign  la&ti. 

Arriving  at  New  York  he  partook  of  a  hasty  break- 
fast, read  over  his  letters  and  then  repaired  to  IL. 
Johnson's  office.  The  clerk  recognized  him  and,  oa 
being  informed  that  his  business  was  urgent,  took  his 
card  at  once  to  an  inner  room,  where  the  lawyer  was 
engaged  in  writing.  An  immediate  summons  to  enter 
followed,  and  Dr.  Elton  found  himself  confronting  a 
very  nervous  gentleman,  who  had  risen  from  his  chair 
and  stood  leaning  against  his  desk,  without  making 
any  of  the  customary  moves  used  in  greeting  a  wel- 
come visitor. 

But  Dr.  Elton  was  too  much  occupied  with  his 
errand  to  notice  this. 

"  I  have  something  of  importance  to  say  to  you, 
Mr.  Johnson/'  he  said,  "  and  I  have  taken  the  earliest 
opportunity  to  call  on  you  for  that  purpose." 

The  lawyer  was  undoubtedly  much  agitated  at  that 
moment. 

"  I  have,  also,  something  of  impoi  uance  to  say  to 
yvu,  sir!"  he  responded  sharply.  "If  you  had  not 
come  to  see  me,  I  should  have  sought  you  out,  sir  !" 

"Indeed  !"  exclaimed  the  physicain,  somewhat 
astonished. 

"  Yes  sir !"  continued  the  lawyer,  growing  more 
•xcited.  "  My  wife  returned  home  yesterday,  sir  !" 

"  Well,"  said  Elton,  calmly.  "  And  what  has  that 
to  do  with  me  ?" 

Mr.  Johnson  trembled  perceptibly. 

"  It  may  hav«  much  to  do  with  you,  sir  !"  he  said, 
aagrily.  "  You  have  behaved  basely,  sir !  You 
have—" 

"  Step    right    there  !"     oried     Elton,    thoroughly 


F.AJ3  THAT  TBH    IHOCaAJHTD 

aroused.  *  I  will  not  permit  you  to  slander  ae  in  that 
manner.  Produce  your  authority  for  your  statements 
or  retract  them  instantly  !" 

Mr.  Johnson  was  nearly  choking  with  the  excess  6$ 

his  rage. 

"  Perhaps  you  have  not  been  in  Wisconsin  !"  ha 
saeered.  "  Perhaps  your  name  is  not  Elton  !  Per- 
haps you  have  not  seen  my  wife  within  the  last  tea 
days  !" 

Elton  calmed  himself. 

"  I  have  been  in  Wisconsin ;  my  name  is  Eltoa ; 
and  I  have  seen  your  wife,"  he  responded.  "  If  that 
is  the  limit  of  your  accusations,  I  confess  their  truth. 
I  will  confess  even  more.  I  saved  your  wife's  life  at 
the  peril  of  my  own.  I  restored  her  to  consciousness* 
and  gave  her  to  her  friends." 

Mr.  Johnson's  excitement  did  not  abate  in  tht 
least. 

"  You  restored  her — but  how  !  You  carried  her  i» 
your  arms  to  a  cave  in  the  rocks  and  passed  the  night 
there  with  her.  Do  you  deny  that  ?" 

He  struck  his  fist  on  the  desk  when  he  put  the 
question,  as  he  had  done  so  often  on  the  table  of  a 
court  room  when  badgering  a  timorous  witness,  but  it 
did  not  frighten  Elton. 

"  It  is  difficult  to  answer  you  seriously,"  was  tne 
physician's  reply.  "  I  did  what  I  considered  the  best 
things  under  the  circumstances.  When  I  seized  Mrs. 
Johnson  she  was  sinking  in  the  water.  "  had  the 
greatest  difficulty  in  gaining  the  shore,  and  was  about 
to  give  up  the  task  when  I  found  myself  in  the  shal- 
lows. I  carried  her  in  my  arms  because  there  was  no 
other  means  of  conveyance.  You  may  be  sure  it  waa 
not  easy  to  transport  a  lady  a  mile  in  that  way,  witfc 


•94        WHO   PAID   THAT   TMT  TXOTOAJRD   DOUAM  f 

the  water  often  reaching  to  my  neck.  I  took  her  to 
the  cave  because  there  was  no  other  place  so  accessi- 
ble. I  stayed  with  her  there  till  morning  because  I 
dared  not  leave  her  and  because  the  rain  continued  to 
pour  in  rivers  fr»m  the  black  sky.  You  should  be  sen- 
sible enough,  Mr.  Johnson,  to  know  that  desperate 
cases  require  desperate  remedies." 

Nothing  that  he  said  seemed  to  pacify  the  lawyer 
in  the  least. 

"  Was  it  necessary  to  strip  off  her  clothing  while 
•he  lay  unconscious  ?"  he  screamed.  "  Probably  you 
can  explain  that,  too  ?" 

Elton  regarded  him  almost  with  pity. 

"  Imagine,  if  you  can,"  he  replied,  "  the  condition 
of  a  woman  after  being  two  hours  in  the  chilling 
waters  of  a  lake  at  this  season  and  unconscious  most 
of  the  time.  Could  she  be  restored  without  dryness 
and  warmth?  It  was  a  grave  question,  sir,  whether 
all  I  could  do  would  bring  back  life  to  her  veins,  but 
I  succeeded.  Certainly  I  undressed  her.  I  would 
have  been  un&c  to  call  myself  a  physician  had  I  let 
her  die  under  the  flimsy  excuse  of  modesty.  I 
removed  her  soaked  garments,  bathed  her  with  the 
hottest  water  she  could  bear,  rubbed  her  vigorously 
with  towels,  wrapped  her  in  warm  blankets,  put 
heated  stones  to  her  feet,  forced  brandy  down  her 
throat  and,  after  an  hour  of  such  labor,  saw  her  eyes 
open  with  intelligence.  Is  it  this  of  which  you  com- 
plain ?  If  so,  you  ought  to  be  committed  to  a  lunatic 
asylunr.  !" 

The  lawyer  heard  with  impatience. 

"You  tell  your  story  well,"  he  snarled,  "but  you 
forget  some  of  it.  Why  did  you  do  all  this,  at  the 
risk,  you  say,  of  your  life  ?  It  was  because  of  the  love 


WMO   TAB*  THAT  TJOT   THOU8AHB 

you  bear  her — a  love  which  you  had  years  ago  and 
which,  notwithstanding  her  marriage,  you  hare  never 
let  die  out !" 

Elton  had  changed  color. 

"It  was  certainly  not  for  love  of  y*uF  he  cried. 
hotly.  "  I  supposed  shame  would  tie  your  tongue  co 
that  subject !  I  came  here  this  morning  to  demand  an 
explanation  of  your  pretense  that  the  money  you  scat 
me  in  Europe  came  from  Jared  Elton's  estate!" 

Mr  Johnson  was  evidently  surprised. 

"  Pretense  !"  he  repeated,  vaguely. 

"Yes,  pretense  !"  said  Elton.  "For  I  saw  and 
talked  with  Jared  Elton  at  Keokuk,  Iowa,  not  three 
days  ago." 

"  Saw  him — talked  with  him!" — repeated  the  lawyer. 

"Yes,  I  did.  Now,  why  did  you  send  me  that 
money,  pretending  it  was  his  ?  It  was  to  ease  your 
guilty  conscience  from  the  sin  of  taking  advantage 
of  my  troubles  to  induce  the  girl  who  loved  me  to 
marry  you.  You  have  talked  very  plainly,  Mr.  John- 
son, and  I  may  do  the  same.  You  knew  I  loved  her.  You 
knew  she  loved  me.  You  knew  I  was  penniless,  four 
thousand  miles  away.  You  married  her.  She  is 
yours.  When  I  sprang  from  the  steamer  to  try  to 
save  her  life,  I  knew  it  could  avail  me  nothing.  If 
the  old  love  has  never  left  my  breast,  I  have  at  least 
hid  its  manifestation,  except  in  that  one  instance.  It 
may  have  nerved  me  for  the  perilous  leap,  but  it  has 
saved  a  life  that  must  be  dear  to  you — the  life  of  your 
child's  mother.  As  soon  as  I  could  leave  her  with 
safety  to  herself  I  did  so.  If  I  can  be  the  one  to  de- 
cide, I  shall  never  see  her  again." 

The  lawyer  seemed  to  find  his  strength  failing  him 
He  sank  heavily  into  an  adjacent  chair. 

"  That  money  !"  he  gasped.     "  I  do  not  uaderstaa* 


1M        WMO  PAID   THAT   TJBT   THOTOU]fT> 

it !  The  amount  was  brought  to  me  in  aa  envelop^ 
with  a  letter  purporting  to  be  written  by  the  executor ; 
I  will  find  it  for  you.  My  professional  honor  is  at  stake. 
1  insist  that  you  shall  see  it ." 

He  rang  for  a  boy,  to  whom  he  gave  the  necessary 
directions,  and  who,  in  a  few  minutes,  brought  him  a 
package  of  documents,  from  which  the  lawyer,  with  a 
shaking  hand,  drew  the  letter  in  question.  It  bore  a 
New  York  date  and  merely  stated  that  Sebastian  Hub- 
bard,  executor  of  the  will  of  Jared  Elton,  wished  to 
convey  to  J.  S.  Johnson,  Esq.,  for  Mr.  J.  T.  Elton,  now 
a  student  at  Freiburg,  Germany,  ten  thousand  dollars 
to  him  bequeathed.  A  messenger  had  brought  the 
money  and  taken  a  receipt  therefor. 

"  If  that  money  was  not  from  your  uncle's  executor, 
I  cannot  imagine  who  sent  it,"  said  Mr.  Johnson,  when 
Elton  returned  the  letter  to  him.  "  It  is  no  uncommon 
thing  in  my  business  to  be  asked  to  transmit  legacies 
to  parties  abroad.  I  did  it  in  the  usual  way,  deduct- 
ing my  fees,  and  thought  no  more  about  it." 

The  door  of  the  inner  office  had  been  left  slightly 
ajar  by  the  boy  who  brought  the  letter  and  Mr.  John- 
sen's  last  words  reached  the  ear  of  a  lady  who  had 
just  entered  the  outer  office  and  was  waiting  to  see 
him.  With  quick  intuition  she  divined  that  Elton 
was  there  and,  on  being  informed  by  a  clerk  that  such 
was  the  case,  she  walked  to  the  door  and  tapped  upon 
K  Having  thus  arrested  the  attention  of  the  occu- 
pants, she  pushed  the  door  open  and  entered. 

M  In  a  moment,  Mrs.  Wyllis,"  said  the  lawyer.  "  I 
•ua  engaged  ;ust  at  present." 

Her  reply  was  to  close  the  portal  behind  her  and 
U*e  a  chair  near  the  disputing  parties. 

"  Excuse  me,"  she  said,  pleasantly.    "  I  have  uawit- 


WMO  PAID   T«AT   Tl 

tiagly  overheard  enough  of  your  conversation  to  teal 
that  I  can  aid  you — both  of  you — if  you  will  let  m*. 
Dr.  Elton  has  discovered  that  his  uncle  did  aot  leavt 
him  the  money  which  he  received  in  Germany,  &ad 
comes  here  to  charge  you,  Mr.  Johnson,  with  deceiv- 
ing him.  This  charge,  being  untrue,  you,  of  course, 
deny.  Now,  where  did  that  money  come  from?  I 
think  I  can  guess." 

Elton  did  not  like  Mrs.  Wyllis,  but  he  was  suffi- 
ciently interested  in  her  remarkable  statement  to  lit  tea 
to  her,  and  Mr.  Johnson  did  likewise. 

"  I  cannot  prove  what  I  am  going  to  say,"  con- 
tinued the  lady,  "as  proof  would  be  required  4n  a 
court,  but  there  has  been  for  a  long  time  no  doubt  in 
nay  mind  about  it.  To  me  it  is  perfectly  plain  that  the 
money  was  sent  to  you  by  my  husband." 

"  By  Mr.  Wyllis  !"  cried  both  gentlemen  at  once. 

"  Why  not  ?"  pursued  the  lady.  "  Claude  had  made 
the  trouble — Mr.  Johnson  knows  all  about  that — and 
when  Mr.  Elton  refused  to  touch  any  more  of  his 
money  he  was  in  a  terrible  state  of  mind.  He  asked 
me  twenty  times  a  day  to  help  him  out,  but  I  could 
think  of  nothing.  I  believe  he  sent  that  money  here 
an<i  started  the  next  day  for  Germany  to  make  sure  It 
was  accepted  without  suspicion." 

"  How  would  he  know  your  uncle's  name  ?"  asked 
the  lawyer  of  Elton. 

"  We  have  often  talked  about  him,"  responded  the 
other,  gloomily.  "  It  must  be  so.  Mr.  Johnson,  for  my 
unjust  suspicion  I  ask  your  pardon.  When  you  view 
the  acts  of  which  we  were  previously  speaking  im  the 
right  light,  you  will  ask  mine.  If  you  have  no  more 
to  say  to  me,  I  will  wish  you  good  morning." 

Then  he  bowed  to  both  of  them  and  withdrew 


CHAPTER  XXXII.' 

DR.  KLTON  PERUSES  DOCUMENTS. 

Mr.  Johnson  turned  eagerly  to  Mrs.  Wyllif. 

"  How  was  Cora  when  you  left  the  house  !" 

"  About  the  same.  What  have  you  been  doing— 
tcolding  Dr.  Elton  ?  I  am  surprised  at  you  !" 

"  I  gave  him  my  opinion  of  his  conduct,"  replied 
Mr.  Johnson,  uneasily. 

"  You  jealous  wretch  !"  cried  Mrs.  Wyllis.  "  You 
should  have  overwhelmed  him  with  thanks.  He  did 
nothing  but  what  was  right,  I  am  sure.  Do  you  think 
Claude  will  care  because  I  told  him  about  the  money  ? 
I  am  glad  I  did,  anyway.  He  may  hare  a  kinder  feel- 
ing for  him  now.  He  can't  go  on  hating  a  man  like 
that  forever." 

M I  wonder  if  your  guess  is  the  right  one,"  mused 
the  lawyer.  "But  about  Cora,"  he  added  after  a 
moment's  thought.  "What  will  be  the  outcome,  do 
you  think  ?" 

Mrs.  Wyllis  had  a  very  sober  look'' as  she  answered  : 

"  I  wish  I  could  tell  you,  but  I  can't.  It  is  a  most 
unfortunate  affair.  Dr.  Livingstone  owns  himself 
completely  puzzled.  She  doesn't  seem  to  care  for  any 
of  us,  and  yet  Mrs.  Wilkins  says  she  insisted  on  coming 
home  without  delay.  She  goes  about  the  house  like  a 
somnambulist,  refusing  to  roply  to  questions.  I 
thought  I  could  arouse  her,  but  she  won't  even  listen 
to  me.  She  has  the  idea  to-day  that  she  is  still  in  the 
cav«  and  that  Dr.  Elton,  or  Jack,'  as  she  always  calls 


ZW.    ILTOH 

feiaa,  is  with  her.  The  poor  girl  is  not  responsible  for 
what  she  says,  but  she  calls  for  him  day  and  night." 

Mr.  Johnson's  disturbed  look  grew  more  pro* 
oounced  as  she  proceeded. 

"  And  yet  you  wish  me  to  thank  him  !"  he  said, 
bitterly. 

"  Certainly  I  do  !  It's  no  fault  of  his.  Half  th« 
men  in  the  world  would  have  run  off  with  her  while  in 
this  state  of  mind  and  left  you  to  get  your  divorce  at 
your  leisure.  Dr.  Elton  is  the  most  high-minded  gen- 
tleman I  ever  knew,  and  I  am  going  to  his  office  this 
very  day  and  tell  him  so.  I'd  like  to  see  Claude  ia 
his  place  !  He'd  h*'.s  been  thousands  of  miles  away 
with  her  now.  Elton  knew  her  acts  were  the  result  of 
the  shock  to  her  brain  and  acted  accordingly  ;  though, 
if  she  had  been  sane  as  a  judge,  it  would  have  made 
no  difference  with  him.  He  is  a  hero,  I  tell  you,  and 
you  ought  to  see  it !" 

He  did  not  agree  with  her,  though  he  was  much 
impressed  with  her  words. 

"  Mrs.  Wilkins  said—"  he  began. 

"  Mrs.  Wilkins  !"  echoed  Belle,  with  disgust  "  She 
is  a  tattling  old  fool  and  I  hope  Cora  will  ship  her  to 
the  Feejee  Islands  as  soon  as  she  recovers  !  If  she  had 
kept  hei  mouth  closed  all  would  have  been  well !  She 
must  fill  your  ears  with  nonsense  and  you  were  just 
silly  enough  to  listen  !  Oh,  you  men  !  I  am  out  of 
patience  with  you  all !" 

Mrs.  Wyllis  laughed  good  natureily,  after  net 
partly  assumed  vexation. 

"Did  you  know  I  was  going  to  Europe?"  she 
asked,  as  he  did  net  seem  inclined  to  pursue  tho  othw 
subject  further. 

"When?" 


•00  BB.    BLTOV 

"Very  soon  now.  I  am  tired  to  death  of 
thing  here.  Cora  will  be  ill  a  long  time,  I  fear,  and  I 
can  do  her  no  good.  Claude  has  been  living  over 
there  for  two  years  and  I  am  going  to  see  what  keeps 
him.  I  don't  mean  to  interfere  with  his  amusements 
— I  detest  interference — but  I  think  he  owes  me  a  little 
attention,  too.  I  have  written  that  I  am  coming,  so  he 
can  be  prepared.  A  sudden  shock  might  be  dangerous 
to  the  poor  fellow !" 

Dr.  Elton  was  somewhat  surprised,  several  hours 
later,  on  returning  from  a  professional  call,  to  find 
Mrs.  Wyllis  waiting  in  his  private  office. 

"  You  are  not  glad  to  see  me,"  she  said,  reading  as 
much  in  his  face. 

"  I  am  always  ready  to  treat  patients.  Any  other 
business  I  cannot  transact  in  office  hours." 

"  But  there  is  no  one  here  just  now,"  she  said,  "  and 
my  errand  is  brief.  I  am  here  for  two  reasons  :  First, 
I  wish  to  thank  you  on  my  own  account  for  your  noble 
act  in  rescuing  and  restoring  to  life  my  dear  friend, 
Mrs.  Johnson.  If  her  rash  husband  does  not  appre- 
ciate your  heroism,  I  do.  The  moral  grandeur  of  yew 
conduct,  under  all  the  circumstances,  as  I  learn  them, 
deserves  the  highest  praise." 

He  was  totally  unmoved  by  her  compliments  and 
his  lip  curled  slightly  as  he  replied  : 

"I  did  not  think  you  were  a  judge  of  Moral 
Orandeur,  Mrs.  Wyllis  !" 

She  colored  painfully  at  the  cruel  taunt. 

"My  second  reason  in  coming,"  she  continued, 
striving  to  master  her  confusion,  "is  to  offer  yon  the 
proofs  you  wamted  so  long  ago  that  I  hare  been  aa 
heaest  woman." 


vm.  vx/roN  FZKUUI  poounmait.  8§ 

She  proceeded  to  open  a  small  hand-bay  which  she 
curried  and  to  take  therefrom  sundry  documents  ft&4 
newspapers,  but  he  interrupted  her. 

"  Pardon,  me,  Mrs.  Wyllis  !  The  question  whicfc 
you  wish  me  to  investigate  is  not  now  of  importance 
to  me.  You  must  be  aware  that  the  issue  which  raised 
it  has  long  since  been  settled." 

The  lady  fixed  her  eyes  upon  him  without  flinch- 
ing. 

"  Several  times,"  she  said,  u  and  the  last  one  since 
I  entered  this  room,  you  have  insinuated  that  my  life 
in  South  America  was  an  unchaste  one.  You  have 
nothing  on  which  to  base  that  insinuation  but  the  mer- 
est suspicion.  I  have  a  right  to  clear  myself,  and  you 
must  give  me  justice  !" 

"  There  was  more  than  suspicion,"  he  answered, 
boldly.  "  Do  you  wish  me  to  tell  you  ?  A  photo- 
graph was  brought  to  me  by  a  Spaniard  who  wished 
to  sell  it — ah  ! — you  understand  now." 

Mrs.  Wyllis  closed  her  eyes  for  one  instant  in  a 
spasm  of  pain.  Then  she  said  : 

"Yes,  I  understand  only  too  well.  In  these  docu- 
ments the  origin  of  that  picture  is  fully  explained,  so 
that  even  you  must  be  satisfied.  I  shall  leave  these 
things  here.  You  may  take  your  own  time  to  exam- 
toe  them,  but  if  you  are  the  honest  man  for  whom  1 
take  you,  you  will  not  refuse  to  do  it" 

She  placed  the  documents  and  newspapers  on  the 
table  and  rose  to  depart. 

"  I  am  going  to  Berlin  in  a  few  days  and  shall  see 
ray  husband  there,"  she  continued.  "  I  shall  tell  him 
what  I  said  to  you  about  the  money.  1C  you  write  to 
tain  meanwhile,  there  is  no  occasion  for  you  to  use 
rough  language.  No  oce  loves  you  better  to-day  than 


$03  M.    XLTOK 

he  4oe»,  and  even  a  dog  will  refuse  te  bite  a  CdfifiltJ* 
ally  caressing  hand.  If  you  send  him  the  laoney,  h* 
will  doubtless  decline  to  take  it  You  and  I  may  BUS* 
pert  what  we  please,  but  we  can  prove  nothing;, 
Think  a  little  before  you  do  the  wrong;  thing." 

That  night  Dr.  Elton  took  the  documents  aad 
papers  which  Mrs.  Wyllis  had  left  and  read  them  over 
carefully.  The  first  one  was  addresed,  "  To  my  dear- 
est daughter,  Isabelle,  Countess  Murillo,"  and  signed, 
"Maria  Voges."  In  it  were  these  lines  : 

"  When  you  read  this  I  shall  have  gone  to  ray  long 
sleep  and  you  will  be  absolved  from  the  strict  promise 
which  I  exacted  of  you.  My  poor  son,  whose  life  you 
tried  to  brighten,  cannot  suffer  from  any  revelation 
which  your  duty  to  yourself  may  call  upon  you  to 
make.  When  I  induced  you  to  marry  Jos6  I  believe  I 
had  secured  happiness  for  you  both.  On  account  of 
your  father's  sudden  death  you  were  left  to  my  care, 
an  orphan  girl,  subject  to  the  perils  of  youth.  Jose 
loved  you,  in  his  own  wild  way,  and  you  obeyed  my 
desire  that  you  should  wed  him.  The  sad  ending  of 
his  life,  caused  by  his  own  folly,  has  robbed  me  of  all 
earthly  peace  and  I  can  only  hope  for  happiness  in 
another  world.  With  my  possessions,  which  I  have 
willed  to  you  (and  which  I  am  sorry,  for  your  sake,  are 
act  greater)  I  leave  y»u  a  mother's  blessing." 

Elton's  surprise  as  he  read  this  document  was  very 
great.  The  next  article  he  persued  was  a  copy  of  a 
marriage  certificate,  given  at  Rio  Janeiro  and  embel- 
lished with  numerous  signatures  and  seals,  attesting 
that  Jos^,  Count  Murillo,  was  united  on  a  certain  date 
to  Teabelle,  daughter  of  the  late  Captain  Arthur  V-utg* 


D*.    XLTOH  IKBUIXS   DOOUKiaRl.  808 

of  Cambridge,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A.  Next  he  picked  up 
a  copy  of  a  long  deposition  made  before  a  Brazilian 
court,  duly  certified,  entitled,  "  A  copy  of  a  Deposition 
af  Isabelle,  Countess  Murillo,  in  Reference  to  the  Cause 
of  the  Death  of  the  late  Count."  The  paragraphs  which 
Interested  Dr.  Elton  most  are  given  below  in  a  con- 
densed form  : 

"  On  the  thirteenth  day  of  July,  18 — ,  I  went,  accord- 
ing to  my  custom,  into  the  bathing  apartment  of  our 
villa.  After  performing  my  ablutions,  the  atmosphere 
being  unusually  oppressive,  I  reclined  on  a  sofa  and 
fell  into  a  profound  sleep.  The  count  was  the  only 
person  besides  myself  who  had  access  to  this  room  and 
I  supposed  him  absent  at  the  time.  When  I  awoke  I 
noticed  nothing  to  excite  suspicion  that  any  one  had 
intruded  during  my  slumbers,  but  the  next  day,  the 
count,  in  a  sporting  mood  (it  was  after  dinner)  invited 
me  to  look  at  some  productions  of  an  amateur  photo- 
graphic apparatus  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  using. 
Among  the  pictures  which  he  showed  me  was  one  of 
myself,  evidently  taken  while  I  lay  in  the  bathing  apart- 
ment on  the  previous  day.  All  my  entreaties  that  he 
would  destroy  the  plate  and  picture  did  not  move  him. 
He  declared  no  one  else  should  ever  see  it  and  retused 
to  hear  my  prayers,  though  made  repeatedly  and  with 
tears.  He  said  he  had  printed  three  copies  and  should 
keep  them.  I  succeeded  in  entering  the  room  where 
the  camera  was  kept  and  breaking  the  negative  in 
pieces,  but  I  could  not  secure  the  printed  pictures,  as 
he  kept  them  in  a  secret  place.  Appeals  from  his 
mother,  to  whom  I  mentioned  my  distress,  did  not 
snore  him.  He  declared  with  a  laugh  that  he  would 


804  DX.    ELTON  PKBUIU   DOOUHUm. 

not  humor  two  foolish  women  who  were  making  ca 
unnecessary  fuss  over  a  thing  of  no  Importance. 

u  Shortly  afterward,  our  villa  was  entered  one 
tight  by  robbers.  The  <:ount  found  that  many  things 
a>f  value  had  been  taken  and,  after  a  thorough  search, 
he  came  to  me  as  white  as  death.  'Good  God, 
Isabelle  !'  he  cried,  '  they  have  stolen  those  photographs 
also  !'  His  distress  at  the  discovery  was  hardly  les* 
than  mine.  The  ablest  detectives  were  put  upon  the 
track  of  the  thieves  and  soon  one  of  them  was  appre- 
hended. He,  however,  swore  at  first  that  he  had  given 
all  of  the  pictures  to  an  acquaintance  named  Silva,  not 
considering  them  of  any  value.  He  was  sentenced  to 
twenty  years  in  the  mines,  but  afterward  secured  a 
commutation  to  ten  years  by  returning  one  of  the  pic- 
tures, which  he  then  admitted  he  had  retained. 
Neither  bribes  nor  threats  could  recover  from  him  the 
remaining  ones.  It  became  evident  they  were  in  other 
hands. 

"  Time  passed  on  and  the  count  grew  more  melan- 
:holy,  day  by  day.  He  avoided  me  and  dwelt  upon 
nothing  but  the  disgrace  he  had  caused  me.  One  day 
te  sought  me  out  in  high  spirits,  with  the  second 
picture  in  his  hand.  He  had  reclaimed  it  by  paying  a 
teavy  blackmail  to  the  man  Silva.  When  he  asked 
tte  to  join  in  his  rejoicing,  I  only  said,  *  There  is  still 
another !'  These  words  seemed  to  unbalance  his  rea- 
lon.  He  drew  a  pistol  from  his  pocket  and  a  second 
Utter  fell  dead  at  my  feet,  his  blood  deluging  the 
photograph  in  my  hand. 

"  Silva  was  captured  aed  sentenced  to  three  hun- 
dred lashes  for  blackmail.  When  half  of  them  had  beea 
administered,  he  was  offered  pardon  if  he  would  give  up 
the  remaining  photograph.  He  doggedly  answered 


305 


Caat  he  did  not  know  where  it  was  and  the  sherlf 
inished  his  jvork. 

"This  deposition  is  made  by  Isabelle,  Countess 
Murillo,  before  the  Imperial  Court  at  Rio  Janeiro,  and 
is  to  be  kept  from  publicity,  except  such  as  may  fc* 
necessary  to  further  the  cause  of  justice.  ' 

There  were  also  several  letters  in  the  package  from 
ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  upper  Brazilian  circles, 
expressing  grief  at  the  misfortune  which  Isabelle  had 
suffered  in  the  death  of  the  count  One  bore  the 
imperial  seal  and  was  sent  by  order  of  the  Emperor 
himself.  The  personal  regard  which  the  writers  felt 
for  the  countess  appeared  in  every  line.  The  news- 
papers contained  accounts  of  certain  ceremonious 
visits  of  prominent  people  to  the  countess  on  the  eve 
of  her  departure  for  the  United  States,  a  year  later. 
This  letter,  from  Mrs.  Wyllis  to  Dr.  Elton,  was  last 
in  the  list  : 

"  My  dear  Doctor  :  At  last,  after  years  of  waiting, 
the  death  of  Sefiora  Voges,  mother  of  my  former  hus- 
band, Court  Murillo,  leaves  me  free  to  open  to  the 
gaze  of  all  suspicious  eyes  the  proofs  that  I  lived 
honestly  during  the  years  that  immediately  followed 
my  poor  father's  death.  Sefiora  Voges  was  devotedly 
attached  to  her  son  and  could  not  bear  that  any  one, 
outside  the  narrow  circle  of  officials  who  were  obliged 
to  be  told,  should  know  of  the  thoughtless  acts  which 
led  to  his  death.  I  gave  her  my  promise  never  to 
allude  to  him  in  any  way  while  she  lived,  and  should 
have  kept  it  HO  matter  what  temptation  might  have 
arisen  to  do  otherwise. 

"  You  have  never  liked  me.  I  do  not  ttame  you  for 


S66  "  nr  IT  warn  MOT  TQB  LULU  z  OGULB  LOT*  mmt? 

that.  You  have  said  harder  things  to  me  than  yoe 
should  have  said.  I  forgive  you.  You  have  had  your 
sorrows  ia  life  as  well  as  I.  No  one  is  perfect  and  ne 
one  can  tell  what  he  or  she  might  have  done  under  other 
circumstances.  I  am  naturally  of  a  gay  disposition 
and  no  weight  of  suffering  could  permanently  bear  me 
down.  No  doubt  to  a  serious  mind  like  yours  I  seem 
frivolous.  You  have  accused  me  wrongfully  in  your 
thoughts  for  years.  When  you  think  of  this  hereafter, 
it  may  teach  you  how  fallible  is  human  judgment." 

Dr.  Elton  read  everything  in  that  package  twice, 
with  a  very  grave  face.  Then  he  resigned  himself  for 
a  long  time  to  deep  meditation.  The  clock  in  his  office 
ticked  louder  and  louder,  until  it  sounded  like  the 
clang  of  bells,  *nd  this  is  what  it  said  : 


Wreng  —  WRONG  !  !      Wrtnf  —  WRONG  !  !     You  httv* 
WRONG!   Ytuhmvekcc*—  ««yWRONGJU" 


CHAPTER   XXXIIL 
**ir  IT  WKM  HOT  FOR  LULU  i  COUL»  LOV» 

Claud  Wyllis  came  into  Lulu  Bornstein's  room  OM 
morning  in  the  autumm  with  a  troubled  face. 

"  I  have  something  to  tell  you,  love,"  ha  said,  going 
directly  to  where  the  girl  awaited  him.  "  My  wife  is 
coming  here." 

"  You  d«  not  aecra  pleased  to  loam  it,"  was  4** 
quiet  comment. 


c*  ar  n  nut  HOT  FOB  LULC  i  MVLD  LOTE  KB.    907 

"Oh,  yes,  I  am  pleased,"  he  said.  "  I  shall  be  glad 
to  see  her ;  but  it  may  separate  me  from  you  for  a 
little  while.  Belle  is  a  good  girl.  I  wish  you  and  she 
were  friends — I  mean  intimates — but  I  suppose  that 
cannot  be.  You  would  like  her.  She  is  very  bright" 

The  girl  looked  intently  at  the  »ot*s  on  a  shott  of 
music  which  she  held  in  her  hand. 

"  I  am  sure  I  should  like  her,"  she  assented.  M I 
like  her  already,  though  I  have  never  sees  her.  But 
she  would  dislike  me  ;  that  is  natural" 

"  I  am  not  certain  of  it,"  Claude  said.  "  Belle  is 
very  sensible — not  at  all  like  most  women.  She  would 
never  cross  the  ocean  to  make  trouble.  She  has 
always  written  to  me  to  enjoy  my  stay  here  all  I  can 
and  she  has  known  for  a  long  time  what  keeps  me." 

Miss  BortMtein  leaned  toward  him  and  laid  her 
hand  softly  upon  his  knee. 

"If  you  should  be  compelled  to  choose  between  us 
— what  then  ?" 

He  took  up  the  hand  and  kissed  it  passionately. 

"  Can  you  ask  !"  he  cried.  "  I  like  Belle— I  wish 
her  every  happiness — but  you — you  !  I  could  not  live 
away  from  you  !" 

"That  is  a  rash  statement,"  smiled  the  singer, 
leaving  the  hand  in  his.  "You  have  doubtless  made 
it  many  times  before  to  others." 

"  What  I  did  before  I  knew  you  is  buried,"  he  said, 
tenderly.  "  It  is  not  worth  resurrecting." 

"  What  a  strange  story  that  was  which  your  wife 
sent  you  in  the  summer  !"  said  Lulu,  whm  she  next 
spoke.  "  A  destitute  orphan,  a  countess  a*d  a  widow 
before  she  was  eighteen  !  I  cannot  understand  hew 
you  married  her  without  more  inquiry." 

"It  was  a  strange  marriage,"  he  answered,  "  but 


290  •  v  n  WBUC  MOT  FOB  LULU 

when  there  is  no  absorbing  passion  to  guide  men,  they 
do  strange  things.  Belle  and  I  learned  to  like  each 
other  afterward,  and  I  never  felt  much  interest  in  her 
past  life,  which  I  had  reason  to  think  was  not  one  she 
would  like  to  reveal.  I  told  you  of  the  photograph, 
the  origin  of  which  is  explained  in  the  papers  she  sent. 
Her  ride  with  Captain  Hawkins  the  last  time  I  saw 
her  was,  I  am  persuaded,  nothing  but  a  frolicsome 
attempt  to  make  me  jealous.  I  could  the  more  easily 
forgive  it,  as  it  brought  me  back  the  sooner  to  you." 

Lulu  listened  to  these  words  with  a  pleased  smile. 

"  Belle  writes  me  that  she  took  these  documents  to 
Dr.  Elton,  who  has  perused  them.  It  seems  he  saw 
the  picture  before  I  did  and  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  she  was  not  good  enough  to  marry  me.  That 
sounds  funny  now,  but  dear  old  Jack  at  that  time 
believed  me  an  angel  right  from  the  upper  ether.  He 
met  Belle,  accused  her  of  all  sorts  of  things  and  threat- 
ened to  prevent  our  marriage  unless  she  could  explain 
her  life  in  Brazil.  Being  bound  by  her  promise  to 
Sefiora  Voges  she  could  not  do  it  and  only  escaped 
him  by  hastening  the  wedding  day.  Her  anxiety  to 
clear  her  character  of  all  suspicion  in  the  eyes  of  a 
man  like  Jack  is  a  touching  piece  of  evidence  in  he* 
tavor." 

Lulu  gazed  at  him  searchingly. 

"You  are  very  glad  to  have  her  reputation  re- 
deemed." she  said.  "  No  master  what  you  say  or.  do, 
you  men  admire  feminine  virtue." 

He  laughed  uneasily. 

"  Virtue  is  an  acquired  taste,  while  love  is  a  natu* 
ral  one,"  he  said.  "  Men  undeniably  like  to  esteem 
their  wives  chaste.  I  have  placed  no  restrictions  OB 
Belle.  She  knows  the  world  is  open  to  her.  If,  in  th« 


MOT  *OB  LULU  i  OOULD  LOVI  HML*  309 


face  of  that  fact,  she  has  been  true,  I  must  be  gratified. 
She  cannot  have  had  such  a  love  as  I  bear  to  you,"  he 
added.  "  The  steel  should  never  boast  what  it  will  do 
till  it  has  felt  the  lodestone  !" 

Mrs.  Wyllis  went  directly  to  a  hotel  on  her  arrival 
fit  Berlin  and  had  a  letter  left  for  her  husband  at  his 
banker's  stating  that  she  would  like  a  visit  from  him 
"at  his  convenience,"  When  he  called  he  met  the 
warmest  of  welcomes.  She  crossed  the  room  to  em- 
brace him  and  a  moment  later  they  were  engaged  in 
animated  conversation.  Still  no  on-looker  would 
have  supposed  her  a  wife  whom  he  had  seen  but  once 
in  two  years.  They  seemed  like  two  very  good 
friends  ;  nothing  more. 

She  had  a  great  deal  to  tell  him.  He  wanted  to 
hear  the  story  of  the  Lake  Pepin  accident  again,  as  the 
account  in  her  letter  was  necessarily  meagre.  Sho 
knew  most  of  the  particulars,  having  pieced  together 
the  newspaper  accounts  of  the  cyclone,  Mrs.  Wilkias' 
gossip  and  Cora's  exclamations.  Claude  was  much 
interested  in  the  affair  and  warmly  endorsed  her 
praises  of  Elton's  conduct. 

"Jack's  a  saint,  that's  just  what  he  is  !"  was  his 
hearty  comment,  "  and  I'm  glad  you  told  Johnson  so  ! 
Why,  the  fellow  is  an  ass  not  to  see  it !  And  so  Cora 
is  still  ill.  Poor  girl !  She'll  never  get  over  her  love 
for  Jack  ;  no,  nor  he  for  her,  if  appearances  are  V)  be 
relied  on.  I  think  somebody  had  better  go  and  stab 
that  husband  of  hers  under  the  fifth  rib  and  leave 
them  free  to  marry  What  an  awful  bond  matrimony 
is,  Belle !" 

She  smiled  anhly,  and  said  yes,  it  was,  to  some 
people.  Then  stie  gave  him  little  scraps  of  new* 
about  numerous  other  people  for  whom  he  inquired. 


310  "  nr  IT  WXKI  HOT  FOB  LULU  i  OOULD  LOTX  HXB." 

Mrs.  Ashleigh  had  been  traveling,  but  was  now  aft 
home  on  Cora's  account.  Jessie  Madison  had  gone 
to  Vassar  College  and  was  to  be  a  teacher.  She  was 
now  a  tall  girl  of  sixteen,  very  handsome,  but  aft 
sedate  as  a  supreme  court  justice. 

"  And  Captain  Hawkins  ?"  suggested  Claude,  when 
she  declared  the  list  complete.  "  You  came  near  for- 
getting him.  Does  he  still  call  at  night  to  take  you 
out  to  ride  and  bring  you  home  at  two  A.  M.,  lifting 
you  in  his  arms  from  his  dog-cart  ?" 

"  No,"  she  laughed.  "  He  is  somewhere  out  in 
California  or  Alaska,  I  think,  at  a  new  station.  I  have 
no  use  for  him  when  you  are  not  there  to  fume  and 
fret  over  our  absence  and  watch  us  when  we  return 
through  the  blinds  of  the  upper  front  chamber  !  Oh, 
I  knew  you  did  it  !  To  be  honest,  though,  if  I  had 
thought  you  would  feel  so  badly  as  to  run  off  the 
next  morning  before  I  arose,  I  wouldn't  have  gone." 

Claude  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  they  enjoyed 
the  reminiscence  together.  He  was  glad  to  see  Belle 
looking  so  well.  He  appreciated  the  magnanimity  of 
her  conduct  toward  him. 

"Those  documents  you  sent  gave  me  the  greatest 
surprise  of  my  life,"  he  said,  presently.  "  So  you 
were  a  wife  long  before  you  met  me.  I  did  not  think 
I  was  marrying  a  countess  when  we  stood  up  before 
the  minister  that  morning  at  the  Gilsey  House.  I 
am  not  sure  but  I  could  have  you  arrested  even  now 
for  obtaining  a  husband  under  false  pretenses.  I  have 
just  thought  of  another  thing,  too,  which  may  invali- 
date our  marriage.  You  pretended  your  name  was 
Vaughan,  when  it  was  really  Murillo.  That  con- 
stitutes  a  fraud  and  makes  us  still  two  single  Individ- 


a  or  R  wsss  HOT  FO»  LULU  i  OOULD  LOVB  HO."  811 

a&h  if  I  understand  New  York  law.  I  shall  certainty 
consult  Johnson  about  it" 

She  laughed  with  him  at  the  idea  and  then  res- 
ponded : 

"Don't  think  me  so  careless  !  Before  I  left  Brazil 
I  obtained  a  decree  permitting  me  to  resume  my 
maiden  name.  I  wonder  I  didn't  think  to  get  a  copy 
of  that  with  the  others.  Yes,  I  resigned  my  title,  to 
become  plain  Isabelle  Vaughan  again.  I  never  expected 
then  to  see  another  man  whom  I  should  wish  to 
marry.  I  believe  you  were  the  only  one  in  all  the 
world  who  could  have  got  a  *  yes  '  from  me." 

These  words  might  have  produced  a  sobering 
effect,  but  for  the  vivacious  manner  in  which  they 
were  uttered.  Mrs.  Wyllis  evidently  intended  to  be 
entertaining. 

"  What  is  your  programme  ?"  asked  her  husband. 

"  Oh,  not  very  definite.  A  few  days  here,  a  few 
weeks  at  some  watering-place,  then  to  Paris  and  after 
that  a  winter  somewhere  in  Italy.  Colonel  Mitchell's 
fam'lj-  are  now  in  London  and  they  expect  me  to  meet 
them  by-and-by.  The  Colonel  sends  a  cordial  invita- 
tion to  you  to  accompany  me,  but  I  presume  that  is  too 
much  to  expect." 

Claude  hesitated,  as  an  answer  seemed  required. 

"  I  could  hardly — "  he  began. 

"So  I  supposed,"  she  interrupted,  pleasantly. 
*  Your  musical  engagements  are  doubtless  very  press- 
'sg  I  have  read  a  good  deal  of  your  rising  star.  You 
coast  show  her  to  me." 

He  started  a  little  and  his  eyes  roamed  «w  haf 
face. 

"  You  mean — " 

11  Exactly  so." 


HOT  19B  LBLV  I  CMtZLB  MVB  H3tt.J; 

"Miss  Bornstein  will  sing  to-night," he  said,  "and  2 
•hall  be  glad  to  get  you  a  box.  Yon  will  be  well  re- 
warded." 

She  looked  at  him  quizzically. 

a  Why  do  you  call  her  Miss  Bornsteim  to  me  ?  Wky 
i&ot  Lulu?" 

He  did  not  like  the  tone  of  raillery  which  sbff 
assumed. 

"Belle,"  he  said,  "there  s*re  some  subjects  upos 
which  it  is  not  proper  for  us  to  jest." 

She  sobered  instantly  and  said  : 

'•  My  dear  boy,  my  only  wish  is  to  see  you  happy  ! 
Tell  me — do  you  love  her  very  much  ?" 

He  saw  that  her  trifling  was  ended. 

44  Do  you  wish  the  truth  ?" 

44  Yes,  the  whole  truth." 

44 1  love  her  beyond  earth  or  heaven  !"  he  cried.  "  I 
breathe  because  she  inhales  the  same  atmosphere  !  I 
exist  only  because  she  exists  !  My  love  cannot  be  told 
or  measured.  It  is  illimitable  !" 

The  power  Mrs.  Wylhs  had  cultivated  of  stifling 
visible  emotion  was  severely  tested  at  that  moment, 
but  she  came  out  victorious.  She  gave  him  her  hand 
frankly. 

44 1  am  glad  for  your  sake,  Claude." 

in  the  excess  of  his  delight  he  would  have  pressed 
k  kiss  upon  her  lips,  but  she  stayed  him,  saying : 

44  You  have  no  right !  A  love  like  yours  demands 
everything,  even  to  outward  seeming.  Keep  your 
kisses  for  the  lips  to  which  your  heart  leads  you.  It 
would  be  almost  a  crime  to  give  them  to  me.  I  hope 
— nay,  I  am  sure — she  is  worthy  of  them." 

44  Oh,  I  know  you  would  say  that  if  you  knew  her  1" 
i*.  exclaimed,  fervently.  "  I  wfM  send  to  engage  a  0ux 


HOT  urn  mv  i  evra»  HOT  M*»  US 

for  you  immediately.  You  can  see  her  face  and  hetr 
her  voice,  you  can  form  an  idea  of  how  great  a  favorite 
•he  is  with  the  public.  But  that  is  not  to  know  htr. 
Beautiful  as  she  appears  before  the  footlights,  she  is 
much  more  lovely  in  private  life."  * 

Belle  accompanied  her  husband  to  the  door  and,  at 
he  was  about  to  depart,  said  : 

"You  must  not  come  here  too  often,  Claude.  I 
wish  to  attract  no  attention  in  Berlin.  I  have  a  trav- 
eling companion — a  lady  who  knows  these  countries 
well — who  will  accompany  me  wherever  I  wish  to  go 
I  will  write  to  you  if  there  is  anything  I  need." 

He  looked  astonished. 

"But  I  may  call  ?"  he  said. 

"  To  be  sure,  whenever  you  think  best ;  but  do  not 
feel  bound  to  do  so.  Once  or  twice  a  week  will  an' 
swer.  I  shall  wish  to  talk  to  you  after  I  have  see* 
your  cantatrice." 

As  he  was  about  to  leave,  he  hesitated. 

"  Belle,  I  wish  I  might  kiss  you  once,  you  are  so 
very  kind." 

"Well,  just  one  for  good  will,"  she  assented. 
"Not  one  that  could  make  Lulu  jealous." 

He  pressed  the  ripe  lips  for  a  moment,  placing  an 
arm  around  the  buxom  waist. 

"I  believe  if  it  were  not  for  Lulu,  I  could  love 
Bele  now,"  he  thought,  as  he  went  soberly  out  to  tb* 


ff  14  BITITT  AHB  LVLV 

CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

BELLE  AND  LULU  EXCHANGE  FKZSENTL 

That  night  the  great  opera  house  was  packed. 
The  elite  of  the  music  lovers  of  Berlin  had  come  to  sea 
their  favorite  songstress  in  a  new  and  difficult  opera. 
Most  of  them  remembered  her  as  the  little  chorus  girl 
of  two  years  before,  the  development  of  whose  superb 
talent  they  had  watched  with  interest.  Before  the 
curtain  rose,  every  inch  of  standing  room  was  crowded. 
The  entrances  to  the  auditorium  were  filled  with  peo- 
ple who  were  obliged  to  be  content  with  places  where 
they  might  hear,  even  if  they  could  not  see,  the  sing- 
ers. 

As  Claude  Wyllis  drove  through  the  streets  with 
Lulu,  he  had  an  anxious  face.  He  held  her  to  his 
heart  in  the  carriage,  whose  curtains  were  tightly 
drawn,  and  smothered  her  lips  with  kisses  of  encour- 
agement. 

She  was  a  little  afraid  as  the  moment  approached 
Her  professional  reputation  would  receive  a  great 
impetus  if  she  acquitted  herself  well,  and  until  that 
day  she  had  entertained  no  doubt  of  her  ability  to  do 
so.  She  knew  the  house  had  been  sold  to  the  last  inch 
aad  that  her  friends  would  be  there  to  encourage  her 
bt  every  possible  manner.  She  feared  but  one  person 
in  that  vast  audience. 

What  Claude  told  her  of  Belle's  kindness  only 
unnerved  her  the  more.  Had  Lulu's  anger  been 
aroused  she  could  have  braved  anything.  The  unex- 
pected sweetness  of  her  lover's  wife — her  resignation 


Aim  lULU   XX0KAJWK  FBOCUWft.  Sift 

t»  the  circumstances— was  harder  to  meet  than  scon 

or  hatred. 

Claude  had  access  t3  all  parts  of  the  theatre.  He 
went  to  examine  the  house  through  a  convenient 
aperture  and  returned  with  the  information  that  Belle 
was  in  her  box.  Lulu  stole  to  the  spot  and  took  a 
long  look  at  the  handsome  lady,  whose  queenly  form 
was  set  off  by  a  most  becoming  costume,  cut  decollete, 
and  by  a  profusion  of  diamonds. 

"Oh,  Claude!"  she  said,  with  a  sigh,  "how 
could  you  desert  that  magnificent  creature  for  poor 
little  me !  It  seems  as  if  I  could  not  sing  with  her 
there  !" 

"  Courage  !"  he  whispered.  *•  Think  only  of  your 
part  until  you  are  at  ease.  You  will  not  fail  on  this 
night  of  nights  !" 

A  thousand  lorgnettes  were  levelled  at  the  box 
where  Mrs.  Wyllis  sat,  and  the  handsome  Americaine 
was  made  the  subject  of  innumerable  compliments. 
Such  a  complexion  !  such  eyes  !  such  arms  !  such  a 
throat !  Who  could  she  be  !  Not  a  resident  of  Berliu, 
surely.  Soon  the  whisper  began  to  circulate  that  she 
was  a  Russian  princess,  and  in  a  short  time  this  was 
universally  accepted  as  the  truth. 

The  musicians  struck  up  the  overture  and  the  buzz- 
ing grew  fainter.  The  great  curtain  slowly  revealed 
the  stage.  The  opera  was  begun. 

At  Miss  Bornstein's  first  appearance  the  audience 
went  wild.  The  cheering  was  loud  and  long.  Lulu 
bowed  repeatedly,  with  a  rapidly  beating  heart,  and 
gave  one  glance  at  the  box  which  Mrs.  Wyllis  occupied. 
She  saw  Belle  leaning  over  the  edge,  with  both  hands 
engaged  ia  assisting  the  general  welcome  to  the  singer, 


816  MBLLX  AJTO  LULU  XZOHABQX  FRBHVlt. 

•ad,  even  in  that  brief  moment,  an  encouraging  smile 
was  wafted  down  to  her. 

Lulu's  fears  was  gone.  Her  voice  soared  out  into 
the  grand  realms  which  the  opera  had  opened  for  it  ta 
Inhabit.  At  the  end  of  her  first  solo  the  audience  re* 
doubled  their  applause,  until  the  very  walls  shook 
with  the  echo.  As  she  returned  to  her  dressing-room 
she  met  Claude,  pale  but  overjoyed.  He  caught  her 
in  his  arms  before  the  entire  company  and  pressed  her 
to  his  breast. 

"I  saw  her!"  she  said,  tremulously.  "She  waj 
applauding  with  the  rest.  She  smiled  to  me  and  I 
needed  no  more.  Oh,  Claude,  I  wish  I  might  go  to 
her  box  and  thank  her  !" 

The  manager  of  the  opera  came  up. 

"Fraulein,"  he  cried,  with  enthusiasm,  "you  sang 
superbly !  Nothing  you  have  done  before  has  even 
approached  it !  You  will  soon  have  no  rivals  but 
Sembrich  and  Patti !" 

They  had  to  surrender  her  to  her  tiring- woman. 
She  was  very  happy.  Her  triumph  was  complete. 
There  was  nothing  to  dim  its  lustre. 

The  remaining  acts  were  equally  successful  At 
another  great  recall,  a  basket  of  the  rarest  flowers  was 
handed  to  the  prima  donna.  She  had  tijne  to  read  on 
the  card,  "  From  Belle  to  Lulu,  with  her  dearest  love." 
Then  she  sang  again,  more  divinely  than  before,  keep- 
ing her  face  turned  toward  one  particular  box  and 
pressing  the  basket  of  flowers  to  her  heart. 

"Clearly,"  thought  the  audience,  who  could  not 
help  noticing  the  action,  "th«  Fraulein  knows  th» 
Russian  princess !" 

When  the  curtain  fell  for  ta«  last  time,  the  vast 
eoaeeurse  ceriUL  hardly  ta  persuaded  to  icsva  the 


VOX*  AMD  LULU  KXOHAWOX  FUUUin.  917 

bouse     Again  and  again  Miss  Borastein  responded  to 

their  calls  until  the  manager  interposed  and  forbade 
another  appearance.  Then  the  people  dispersed  slowly, 
talking  as  they  went  of  the  great  success  of  the  young 
Ringer. 

«'  We  shall  soon  lose  her,"  they  said.  "  One  city 
cannot  long  keep  such  a  song-bird  to  itself." 

After  the  house  was  emptied,  and  after  the  company 
had  departed,  Claude  still  sat  with  Lulu  in  her  drest- 
ing-roora.  They  were  too  happy  to  care  to  move. 
He  was  telling  her  what  some  of  the  newspaper  writers 
had  said  to  him  as  they  were  leaving,  and  her  eyes 
brightened  as  he  repeated  the  words  of  praise.  It 
was  an  event  in  Berlin's  musical  history,  they  had 
said.  Such  a  voice,  combined  with  such  youth  and 
beauty,  would  capture  Europe  and  America. 

Lulu's  chief  desire  was  to  attain  a  high  place  in 
the  estimation  of  her  native  country.  Her  intention 
was  to  go  from  Berlin  to  Italy  and  perfect  her  pro- 
nunciation of  the  Italian  tongue.  A  season  at  Milan 
and  Naples  would  make  her  perfect,  she  believed,  in 
the  most  musical  of  languages.  Claude  would  go 
with  her — everywhere  !  They  had  never  seemed  so 
dear  to  each  other  as  in  that  supreme  hour  when  all 
Berlin  was  ringing  with  the  triumph  of  the  new  oper- 
atic star. 

Suddenly  a  faint  cry  of  "  Fire !"  was  heard.  It 
must  be  in  some  building  not  far  off,  Claude  said. 
They  resumed  their  conversation.  She  told  him  for 
the  fourth  or  fifth  time  how  Belle  had  smiled  on  her 
eod  showed  him  again  the  flowers  she  had  sent  and 
tlie  inscription  on  the  card. 

"  !  never  can  love  her  caeogn  !"  sb?  cried,    "  What- 


BIS  *fLLM  UTD  LULU  XXOMAJWX  f*»IMr». 

ever  happens  after  this,  her  name  will  always  be  dear 
to  me !" 

The  cry  of  "  Fire  !"  sounded  again.  They  could 
hear  the  ringing  of  bells  and  the  shouts  of  men. 
Claude  thought  he  could  smell  smoke  and  remarked 
tkat  the  conflagration  might  be  near  enough  to  make 
it  worth  going  to  see.  He  opened  the  door,  when  a 
thick  fog  burst  in  and  almost  stifled  them.  The  fire 
must  be  very  near  to  make  a  smoke  like  that ! 

He  wrapped  Lulu's  outer  garments  about  her  and 
Lhey  walked  into  the  space  where  the  scenes  were 
\  bright  light  penetrated  the  fog  and  the  heat  came 
unpleasantly  near  them.  They  sought  the  usual  door 
of  exit  and  found  it  locked.  Claude  called  the  names 
ef  several  of  the  employees  of  the  house,  but  none 
replied.  He  went  to  the  edge  of  the  stage,  looked 
beyond  the  curtain  and  shrank  back  appalled.  The 
great  building  was  ablaze  ! 

Taking  Lulu's  arm,  he  hurried  her  in  several  direc- 
tions. Every  door  they  came  to  was  fastened,  every 
window  was  barred.  It  was  evident  they  were  alone 
in  the  opera  house.  The  watchman  had  supposed  them 
gone  and,  according  to  his  custom,  had  repaired  to  a 
neighboring  restaurant  for  supper.  The  flames  were 
spreading  rapidly  and  the  place  was  becoming  uncom- 
fortably hot. 

"  We  will  try  below  stairs,"  said  Claude,  drawing 
the  slight  figure  after  him.  "  There  are  exits  there. 
We  may  be  able  to  open  one  of  them." 

Lulu  kept  close  to  him,  clinging  to  his  arm  with  a 
frightened  grip.  Claude  would  save  her.  She  would 
trust  his  judgment. 

In  the  basement  they  fouad  temporary  relief  from 
the  smoke  and  heat,  but  the  exits  were  as  securely 


JJTO  LULU  XXOKAV0Z  PUODm.  SIS 


fastened  as  those  above.  The  faithful  watchman  had 
performed  his  work  altogether  too  well.  There  were 
rwo  little  windows,  which  would  have  been  wide 
enough  to  squeeze  through,  except  for  the  heavy  iron 
bars  which  crossed  them.  The  case  began  to  look 
desperate,  but  the  girl  did  not  utter  a  cry. 

"  We  must  try  everything,"  said  Claude,  when  he 
had  taken  in  the  entire  situation.  "You  go  to  that 
window,  break  the  glass  and  call  for  help  as  loudly  as 
you  can.  I  will  do  the  same  at  this  one." 

She  paused  just  long  enough  to  throw  her  arms 
around  his  neck  and  then  complied  with  his  desire. 
Both  windows  were  soon  broken  and  the  cries  went 
forth.  The  prisoners  could  now  hear  the  roaring  of  the 
flames,  the  shouting  of  the  firemen  and  the  noise  of  the 
engines,  beside  a  confused  jumble  of  other  sounds.  For 
a  little  while  their  comparatively  slight  voices  seemed 
to  have  no  effect.  Then  a  main's  face  was  seen  at  Lulu's 
window,  and  a  voice  cried,  "  Otto,  call  some  of  the  men 
quick  !  Tell  them  to  bring  bars  and  hammers  !  Here's 
a  lady  fastened  in  !" 

Claude  heard  the  voice  like  a  message  from 
another  world.  He  had  almost  given  up  in  despair, 
but  he  could  not  bear  that  Lulu  should  know  how 
little  hope  he  had  of  escape.  He  called  to  her  to 
remain  where  she  was  and  started  in  her  direction. 
He  had  only  taken  a  few  steps,  however,  before  there 
came  a  great  crash.  A  brick  wall,  which  had  rested 
on  an  iron  girder,  collapsed  and  came  down  with  ter- 
rific force  just  in  front  of  him.  Beams,  timbers  and 
flooring  came  with  it,  prostrating  him  in  the  debris, 
but  not  injuring  him  seriously.  As  soon  as  the  great 
noise  which  ch's  caused  had  ceased,  he  called  to  Lulu 
and  sh«  answered  aim,  She  als«  was  unhurt,  but  he 


320  XSLLM  AVD  LULU  KXOULHFOB   !••••!• 

could  no  longer  go  to  her.  The  fallen  mass  raised  ai 
impenetrable  barrier  between  them. 

When  the  men  arrived  at  Lulu's  window  she  told 
them  of  Claude's  situation  and  begged  part  of  them  to 
go  at  once  to  his  rescue.  The  work  was  very  danger' 
ous  for  all  engaged  in  it,  as  the  main  walls  of  the 
building  were  liable  to  fall  outward  at  any  time,  but 
the  brave  fellows  did  not  mind  that.  Like  their 
brethren  all  over  the  world  they  were  accustomed  to 
risk  their  lives  in  the  performance  of  duty.  But  when 
they  reached  Claude's  window  and  began  work  upon 
it,  an  unexpected  obstacle  confronted  them.  He  for- 
bade them  to  touch  the  bars  which  confined  him  until 
Lulu  was  safe. 

"  Go,  all  of  you,  to  the  f raulein  !"  hr  cried.  "  She 
needs  you  more  than  I  !  When  you  have  taken  her  to 
a  place  of  safety,  then  return  for  me  !" 

The  men  consulted  and  one,  who  appeared  to  be 
in  authority,  said  the  idea  was  preposterous. 

"  We  can  save  you  both,  Mein  Herr,"  he  replied. 
"  Let  us  to  work,  for  we  have  no  time  to  lose/ 

Claude  drew  a  revolver  and  cocked  it.  He  was 
very  much  excited. 

"  Before  God,  I  will  kill  the  first  man  who  touches 
these  bars  till  the  fraulein  is  safe  !"  he  shouted. 
"  Save  her,  and  I  will  give  you  a  thousand  florins  each, 
but  don't  come  for  me  till  that  is  done  !" 

The  offer  of  the  reward  had  more  effect  upo»  th« 
men  than  the  threat.  Claude  could  hear  the  blows 
of  their  hammers  ringing  on  the  bars  of  Lulu's 
window.  She  cried  out  to  him  that  they  were  giving 
way  and  he  bade  her  throw  off  her  wraps  so  the  men 
could  pull  her  more  easily  through  the  small  place 
occupied  by  the  wimdow  9t»  **d  «ot  teacnr  of  his 


BBLL1  AHD  LULU   KIOH-IKCI  PKBUDTH.  321 

•rders  to  the  men  and  supposed  he  was  also  being 
released. 

"Yes,"  he  cried,  in  answer  to  her  questionings, 
"Yes,  I  shall  soon  be  free  !" 

Free  of  earth  !  he  thought  with  a  strange  calm  Bess. 
Free  of  the  body  !  And  then,  what  ? 

An  idea  seized  him.  He  snatched  a  memorandum 
book  from  his  pocket  and  began  to  write  rapidly  with 
ft  lead  peccil : 

"  I,  Claude  Wyllis,  now  resident  in  Berlin,  Deing  in 
momentary  expectation  of  death  by  fire  and  suffoca- 
tion— fastened  in  the  basement  of  the  burning  Opera 
House,  with  no  hope  of  escape — but  a  few  minutes,  as 
I  believe,  from  my  Eternal  Judge — do  swear  that  all 
my  relations  with  Miss  Lulu  Bortstein  have  been  pure 
und  honorable.  I  swear  that  she  has  never  comported 
herself,  to  my  knowledge,  otherwise  than  as  a  chaste 
and  modest  lady.  This  is  true,  as  I  hope  for  heaven  !" 

He  read  this  over,  folded  it  up  and  waited.  Soon 
the  firemen  came,  a  dozen  now,  with  their  bars  and 
hammers.  Before  he  would  let  them  touch  his  window 
he  made  sure  that  Lulu  was  safe.  Then  he  handed 
the  chief  officer  the  note  he  had  written  and,  giving 
him  his  purse  with  it,  bade  him  take  it  to  the  mayor  of 
Ifae  city,  with  a  request  to  use  it  as  he  thought  wise. 

Two  minutes  after  Lulu  was  removed,  the  walls  of 
the  building  at  the  corner  where  she  had  been  fell 
with  a  great  noise,  and  before  Claude  was  drawn  from 
his  living  tomb  the  smoke  became  thick  enough  to 
render  him  unconscious.  The  firemen  took  him  to  a 
hospital,  where  Ltd*  had  a  short  time  before  preceded 


8SS  BELLI   AlfD  LULU   XXOHANftK 

him  in  the  same  condition,  and  where  the  ablest  phy< 
sicians  that  could  be  summoned  attended  both. 

With  the  advantage  of  his  superior  physique  Clauds 
regained  his  senses  first  As  he  opened  his  eyes  he 
saw  his  wife  standing  over  him.  She  understood  th« 
question  he  had  not  the  strength  to  utter,  and  said  : 

"  She  is  here,  in  the  next  room.  This  is  a  hospital. 
They  are  doing  everything  for  her." 

He  motioned  Belle  to  go  there  and  aid  them  and 
she  went  to  Lulu's  bedside.  The  heroine  of  a  few 
hours  before  was  strangely  changed  now.  She  also 
saw  Belle  with  her  first  awakening  and  calmly  put 
her  hand  in  hers. 

*4  Claude  is  there  ;  he  will  recover,"  said  Belle, 
pointing.  "  He  must  be  quiet  now,  but  he  sent  me  to 
look  after  you.  You  must  not  try  to  talk  to-night. 
To-morrow  I  will  be  with  you  again." 

The  doctors  tried  to  keep  Wyllis  in  bed  the  next 
morning,  but  he  refused  to  stay  there.  His  pleadings 
to  be  allowed  to  see  Lulu  were  refused,  until  a  little 
judicious  bribery  on  the  part  of  his  wife  secured  the 
coveted  permission.  They  arrayed  him  in  a  dressing 
gown  and  slippers  and  assisted  him  to  the  place,  Miss 
Bornstein  having  been  previously  prepared  for  his 
coming.  The  shock  to  him  as  he  realized  how  low  she 
was,  was  terrible. 

"Oh,  my  darling!"  he  cried,  throwing  his  arm» 
about  her  and  pressing  his  lips  to  hers. 

The  doctors  tried  to  restrain  him,  declaring  the 
proceeding  to  be  very  rash,  but  the  girl  would  not  lei 
him  go.  Mrs.  Wyllis  went  outside,  thinking  the  phy- 
sicians caution  might  be  partly  on  her  account.  When 
he  was  persuaded  to  take  a  chair  by  the  bedside,  Lulu 


Mttl.    WILJEUta  MAKES  TBOVBUL  399 

drew  from  under  the  counterpane  the  paper  he  had 
teat  to  the  mayor. 

"  It  was  very  noble  of  you,  Claude,  to  write  that," 
she  enunciated,  slowly,  "  but  it  is  not  quite  true.  Wf 
have  been  married,  dear ;  mairied  in  that  true  bond  of 
love  which  no  church  can  give,  no  clergyman  convey 
We  have  been  all  in  all  to  each  other.  Let  us  not  deny 
it  now !" 

He  hid  his  face  in  his  hands.  She  motioned  an 
attendant  to  call  Mrs.  Wyllis. 

"  I  took  your  husband  from  you,"  she  said,  taking 
her  by  the  hand.  "  He  has  been  very  dear  to  me,  but 
I  am  going  to  give  him  to  you  again.  I  do  not  know 
whether  I  shall  survive  my  injuries,  and  I  want  you  to 
say  you  forgive  me  what  I  have  done." 

Belle  stooped  and  kissed  her.  while  her  tears  fell  OB 
her  placid  face. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

MRS.    WILKINS   MAKES   TR0T7VLB. 

Senator  Johnson  was  an  unhappy  man.  The  epi- 
sode  on  Lake  Pepin  had  been  a  hard  ©ne  for  hicB 
Up  to  that  time  he  had  the  fullest  confidence  in  his 
wife.  Her  peculiarities  made  little  adverse  impression 
upon  a  man  whose  legal  and  political  business  gave 
him  so  little  time  to  attend  to  domestic  affairs.  Mr 
Johnson  was  very  proud  of  his  honor  and  of  the  high 
repute  of  the  family  name.  He  risked  much  of  criti- 
cism when  he  married  a  unknown  girl,  but  that  he  did 

t 


824  MBS.    WTLKINI   MUCK   TBOUBUL 

•ot  mind.  He  knew  her  beautiful  and  believed  the 
would  win  her  way  to  the  hearts  of  his  social  circle. 
When  Cora  became  his  wife — when  she  became  a 
Johnson — he  thought  the  elevation  would  carry  with 
It  a  sufficient  title  for  anybody.  The  disinclination 
which  she  afterwards  showed  to  go  into  society  did 
not  displease  him.  He  thought  it  very  pleasant  to 
have  her  so  much  at  home,  and  contrasted  to  her  credit 
the  everlasting  party-and-ball  lives  of  some  ladies 
whom  he  knew. 

He  did  not  forget  Cora  had  loved  Elton,  but  sup- 
posed that  love  buried  in  the  distant  past.  That  a 
girl  should  presume  to  remember  a  penniless  student, 
after  marrying  a  Johnson,  seemed  preposterous.  The 
morning  when  the  doctor  set  Willie's  broken  arm, 
the  lawyer  thought  he  saw  enough  to  put  his  mind  at 
rest,  if  indeed,  anything  of  the  sort  was  needed.  He 
frequently  urged  Elton  to  assume  the  duties  of  phy- 
sician to  his  family,  in  place  of  Dr.  Livingstone,  being 
convinced  that  the  young  man's  abilities  were  superior 
to  those  of  the  elderly  practitioner.  Elton  pleaded  a 
crush  of  special  cases  as  an  excuse  for  delaying  a  defi- 
nite reply  to  these  suggestions.  When  the  Lake  Pepin 
disaster  came,  with  its  strange  results,  the  cyclonic 
effect  on  Senator  Johnson's  mind  was  hardly  less 
narked  than  that  on  the  sky-tinted  expanse  of  the 
hitherto  quiet  waters. 

Mrs.  Wilkins,  with  inexcusable  volubility,  related 
to  him  all  she  knew  of  the  affair.  As  an  old  attache  of 
tne  Johnson  household,  the  good  lady  felt  in  her  own 
proper  person  the  shock  to  the  family  dignity,  when 
she  found  Cora  lying  in  a  roughly  furnished  cave  trom 
wnich  her  former  lover  had  just  issued.  Mrs.  Wilkins 
had  not  the  slightest  doubt  any  real  Johnson  would 


MSB.    WILKDra  MAXXi  TmOUtLM.  325 

have  preferred  sinking  in  the  lake  to  going  through 
such  an  improper  experience.  She  had  never  believed 
Cora  worthy  to  join  the  roll  of  immortals  who  wert 
privileged  to  hand  down  to  posterity  the  glorious 
Johnson  name,  but  she  was  unprepared  for  so  great  a 
humiliation  as  this.  The  senator's  excited  nerves  were 
easily  acted  upon.  He  had  read  of  the  disaster  in  an 
evening  paper,  and  for  some  hours  supposed  his  wife 
and  Elton  dead.  The  telegram  which  he  received 
later,  stating  that  they  were  alive,  relieved,  but  did  not 
wholly  console  him.  For  the  first  time,  the  Green 
Eyed  Monster  took  a  hold  upon  his  imagination.  He 
found  himself  harboring  suspicions.  How  happened 
it  Elton  was  on  that  particular  boat,  unless  by  previous 
arrangement  ?  That  Mrs.  Johnson  and  her  old  lover 
should  be  on  the  same  steamer,  twelve  hundred  miles 
from  home,  was  a  strange  coincidence.  How  near 
Elton  must  have  been  to  her  in  all  that  excitement,  to 
De  the  one  to  spring  to  save  her !  Mr.  Johnson  had 
worked  himself  into  a  very  uneasy  state  of  mind  long 
before  Mrs.  Wilkins  arrived  with  his  wife.  When  he 
heard  her  fuller  particulars  his  nervousness,  very 
naturally,  did  not  abate. 

She  told  him  everything  that  she  knew,  and  threw 
in,  without  extra  charge,  several  leading  insinuations, 
in  her  own  shrewd  manner.  It  was  not  so  much  what 
she  said  as  what  she  led  him  to -infer  that  gave  her 
statements  their  chief  effect.  Every  word  seemed  to 
breathe  loyalty  to  her  mistress  and  indignation  against 
any  one  who  should  accuse  her  of  impropriety,  but 
the  result  was  to  awaken  in  the  hearers  mind  the 
very  doubts  she  professed  her  ability  to  dispel 

"  When  I  first  saw  Dr  Elton,"  she  said,  "  he  was 
greatly  excited.  He  was  going  back  with  the  German 


826  res.  ITXLKXKS  MUCES  TBOUKJL 

woman's  daughter,  and  they  had  a  lot  of  things  whick 
they  were  taking  from  the  house.  He  tcld  me  on  the 
way— and  it  was  the  hardest  climb  I  ever  had  to  get 
*jp  there — that  he  carried  Mrs.  Johnson  in  his  arms  for 
over  a  mile,  including  that  precipitous  ascent,  both  of 
'hem  soaking  in  the  cold  water  of  the  lake  and  marsh. 
He  said  when  they  reached  the  cave  and  he  laid  her 
down,  he  felt  almost  sure  she  was  dead.  He  unbut- 
toned her  dress  and  could  not  tell  whether  her  heart 
nad  stopped  or  not.  He  said  he  thought  of  every- 
thing— whether  there  was  a  possibility  of  summoning 
female  aid — whether  he  dared  leave  her  long  enough 
to  go  to  the  village  of  Maiden  Rock  or  Stockholm, 
which  were  each  three  or  four  miles  off.  He  might 
have  found  that  German  family  less  than  a  mile  away, 
but  he  did  not  know  that  then.  When  he  concluded 
he  could  get  no  help  for  her,  he  lit  a  fire,  put  on  tho 
water  to  heat,  and  undressed  the  lady." 

Mr.  Johnson  gave  a  deep  groan  in  spite  of  himself. 

"  Undressed  her  !"  he  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,  sir.  She  was  soaking  in  the  wet  garments, 
and  he  says  she  would  have  died  of  the  chill  had  he 
delayed.  It  was  only  a  few  hours  to  morning,  but  he 
thought  it  necessary  to  hasten.  He  told  me  he  had 
the  greatest  difficulty  to  detach  some  of  the  things — 
he  is  a  bachelor,  you  know — but  he  got  them  all  off  in 
time." 

"  All  7"  screamed  the  husband. 

"Why,  yes,  sir,"  replied  Mrs.  Wilkins,  modestly 
casting  down  her  eyes.  "One  garment  would  have 
been  as  dangerous  as  another,  he  said.  Then  he  took 
the  not  water  and  bathed  her,  rubbing  her  with  the 
towels  until  she  was  perfectly  dry  and  warm.  After  that 
he  lifted  her  in  his  arms  upon  the  bed  and  wrapped  her 


m.  wramn  HAXM  TBOUBIJL  397 

in  warm  oian*ets,  in  which  she  lay  until  she  recovered 
consciousness  enough  to  listen  to  him." 

"  He  stayed  theve  until  she  awoke— talked  to  h*r 
in  that  condition  !"  cried  the  senator,  gnashing  hit 
teeth. 

Mrs.  Wilkjns  assented. 

"  Why,  sir,  as  he  said  himself,  what  else  could  he 
do  ?  Had  she  awoke  in  his  absence,  and  found  herself 
alone,  she  might  have  been  frightened  enough  to  do 
some  desperate  deed.  He  stayed  until  she  could  talk 
to  him  and  then  prepared  to  go  for  help.  But  she 
grew  alarmed  at  the  idea  of  remaining  in  that  strange 
place,  and  the  first  thing  he  knew  her  mind  became 
unbalanced.  She  rose  from  the  bed,  took  a  few  steps 
toward  him  and  fell  fainting  on  the  floor. 

"  Good  God !"  cried  the  lawyer,  the  perspiration 
breaking  out  on  his  face.  "  Did  Elton  tell  you  that  ?" 

"Yes,  sir.  -The  German  woman  found  her  there 
when  she  came,  as  she  explained  to  me  by  signs. 
When  I  arrived,  she  had  her  in  the  bed  again,  but  we 
could  hardly  keep  her  there  for  several  hours  and  she 
talked  dreadfully.  Poor  thing,  she  didn't  know  what 
she  was  saying !" 

The  senator  had  been  clutching  wildly  at  his  hair 
and  beard. 

"  What  did  she  say  ?"  he  asked,  with  emphasis. 

"  Well,  I  would  not  like  to  repeat  it,"  simpered  the 
woman.  "It  was  about 'Jack,'  as  she  called  Dr.  Elton, 
and  about  his  deserting  her.  She  wanted  to  go  to 
him,  and  would  have  left  the  cave  had  we  not  restrained 
her  by  force." 

"Undressed  as  she  was  !"  cried  the  husoand. 

"  Yes,  sir.    She  would  have  gone  out  to  find 


398  KM.   WILXDn  If  liTBf  TBOUBUL 

She  did  not  know  what  she  was  doing.     Yon 
why  he  couldn't  leave  her  before." 

Yes,  he  saw,  but  he  did  not  like  the  sight.  Nothing 
in  his  life  had  seemed  so  horrible  to  Mr.  Johnson  as 
this  recital.  That  retiring,  dignified  young  wife  of 
ais — that  perfection  of  modesty — exposing  herself  thus 
before  a  man,  and  that  man  the  one  who  would  have 
been  her  husband  but  for  an  accidental  circumstance, 
was  more  than  he  could  conceive.  Mrs.  Wilkins 
might  repeat  a  hundred  times  that  Cora  was  unaware 
of  what  she  did,  but  that  did  not  comfort  him.  The 
act,  and  not  the  cause,  gave  him  misery.  It  seemed 
as  if  he  could  not  survive  the  shame. 

Darker  thoughts  did  not  fail  to  obtrude  them- 
selves, like  unwelcome  guests,  who  will  not  be  stayed 
on  the  threshold.  Elton  had  told  Mrs.  Wilkins  a 
strange  story.  Had  he  told  it  all  t 

Mr.  Johnson  could  not  seriously  suspect  his  wife, 
but  the  bare  thought  was  enough  to  freeze  his  mar- 
row. The  couple  was  alone  together  for  hours 
They  had  loved  each  other  years  before.  Temptation 
could  array  herself  in  no  more  inviting  form.  He  re- 
itolved  to  talk  to  Cora  as  soon  as  she  was  calm  enough, 
and  mark  well  all  she  said.  He  did  not  mean  to  be 
unjust,  but,  if  there  had  been  wrong  done  him,  some 
one  should  suffer.  His  pain  was  growing  to  be  more 
than  he  could  bear. 

Dr.  Livingstone,  who  attended  Cora,  positively  for- 
bade  her  husband  having  any  interview  with  her  until 
nhe  was  in  a  quieter  state  of  mind,  and  an  eminent 
physician  whom  he  summoned  to  consult  with  him  upon 
her  case  coincided  in  this  decision.  It  was  while  fum- 
ing under  the  delay  that  the  lawyer  had  the  talk  with 
Dr.  Elton  in  his  office,  as  previously  narrated.  He  had 


1CAKBS   TEOTTBLB.  399 

•o  proof  of  wrong-doing  against  the  doctor,  bat  hit 
miad  was  in  such  a  perturbed  condition  that  he  could 
treat  him  no  better  than  he  did.  After  what  Mrs. 
Wyllis  said  to  him,  he  began  to  feel  a  little  ashamed. 
He  questioned  whether  he  ought  not  to  write  Eltoa  * 
letter  of  apology,  or  call  upon  him  and  make  one  in 
person  ;  but  this  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  do.  It 
is  easier  to  admit  to  ourselves  that  we  have  done 
wrong  than  to  others. 

Cora  was  not  confined  to  the  bed.  She  went  about 
the  house  and  could  have  been  taken  out  in  a  carriage 
had  she  desired.  All  that  the  doctors  enjoined  was 
quiet  and  watchful  care,  lest  she  take  some  injurious 
idea  into  her  head  and  act  upon  it.  She  was  sullen  ; 
no  word  can  better  describe  her  manner.  Nothing 
pleased  her.  She  was  at  war  with  everybody  in  the 
house.  Her  coffee  and  toast  were  cold.  Her  soup  was 
too  hot.  Her  clothes  did  not  fit. 

The  servants  had  a  hard  time  of  it.  Mrs.  Wilkins 
became  especially  distasteful  to  her,  and  an  indis- 
creet reply  resulted  finally  in  the  banishment  of  that 
lady  from  her  presence.  An  appeal  to  Mr.  Johnson 
produced  no  greater  effect  than  six  months'  advance 
salary  and  a  confirmation  of  the  dismissal.  He  re- 
called Belle's  words,  "  the  tattling  old  thing."  He  had 
no  love  left  for  the  woman  who  took  such  pains  to 
enlarge  on  the  evil  news  which  had  so  troubled  him. 

After  a  few  weeks  the  doctors  said  he  might  talk  to 
bis  wife,  if  she  was  willing,  but  conjured  him  to  say 
nothing  that  would  unduly  excite  her.  He  sent  wont 
repeatedly  to  Cora  that  he  would  like  an  interview, 
but  received  the  stereotyped  reply  from  the  French 
maid  who  kept  nearest  to  her,  "  Madame  says  she  n 
not  well  enough  to  se*  yov 


530  MM.  wrumrg  um  TEOTTKJL 


Cora  went  down  to  Newport,  without  consulting 
him,  and  one  day  he  came  home  to  find  her  gone  with 
half  the  household.  This  angered  him.  He  thought 
there  was  a  limit  to  reasonable  endurance  and  wrote 
her  a  curt  letter,  stating  that  he  did  not  approve  her 
actions,  and  warning  her  that,  unless  she  could  amend 
them,  he  must  take  measures  to  restrain  her.  He  sent 
this  by  one  of  his  clerks,  to  make  sure  that  it  was 
delivered,  and  the  messenger  returned  with  the  verbal 
answer,  "  No  reply  is  necessary." 

The  senator  had  also  another  trouble  at  this  time. 
His  congressional  hopes  had  seemed  about  to  find 
fruition  when  his  unlucky  domestic  trouble  was  pre- 
cipitated. A  delegation  of  influential  gentlemen  from 
his  district  called  upon  him  the  morning  after  his 
wife  returned  from  Wisconsin,  and  in  his  distressed  state 
of  mind  he  was  thoughtless  enough  to  send  them 
word  from  his  private  office  to  call  again.  He  did  not 
even  go  out  to  take  them  by  the  hand  and  thank  them 
for  their  visit.  On  going  forth,  indignant  at  this  slight, 
they  encountered  his  rival,  and  were  warmly  greeted 
by  that  worthy,  whose  conduct  thev  contrasted  with 
Mr.  Johnson's,  to  the  great  disadvantage  of  the  latter. 
This  incident,  small  in  itself,  had  an  important  effect 
on  the  senator's  chances.  Othei  politicians  heard  of 
it  and  hesitated  to  embark  in  the  cause  of  a  man  who 
evidently  had  not  learned  the  first  principles  of  a  suc- 
cessful political  career.  When  an  intimate  friend  of 
the  senator  came  to  remonstrate  with  him  on  account 
of  his  action,  Mr.  Johnson  grew  angry  and  told  him  to 
go  the  devil.  That  settled  it  The  nomination,  which 
in  that  district  was  equivalent  to  an  election,  went  to 
his  rival,  and  the  sneers  of  the  party  press  at  his  "  pre- 
tended strength,  which  did  not  develop  at  the  coa» 


OOBA   ITim   WITH   A   tHAJBP    OTBATOV.  331 

vention,"  completed  the  disgust  of  the  defeated  can- 
didate. 

The  adage,  "  It  never  rains  but  it  pours,"  began  to 
come  with  new  force  and  meaning  to  the  unfortunate 


CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

CORA  STRIKES  WITH  A  SHARP  WVAPON, 

Cora  went  out  more  after  she  got  to  Newport,  but 
she  had  no  acceptable  companion,  and  soon  began  to 
feel  a  terrible  lonesomeness.  Belle  wrote  her  an 
account  of  the  Berlin  fire  and  sent  newspapers  to  her. 
The  nearly  tragic  story  of  the  escape  of  Claude  and 
Lulu  did  not  impress  Cora  as  it  would  once  have  done. 
Belle's  love  for  the  young  singer,  which  showed  in 
every  line  of  her  letter,  was  what  riveted  her  atten- 
tion. 

"  I  have  the  two  invalids  on  my  hands  here,"  wrote 
Belle,  "  and  it  is  hard  to  tell  which  requires  the  most 
nursing.  We  shall  go  to  Baden  as  soon  as  possible. 
Claude  could  go  now,  but  Lulu,  to  whom  I  am  becom- 
ing deeply  attached,  is  recovering  slowly.  The  doctor 
advises  a  sea  voyage  for  Claude,  and  he  will  probably 
leave  us  before  long  for  a  trip  to  America.  Both  of  us 
hate  to  spare  him,  but  if  it  is  for  his  good  we  must 
submit.  You  will  think  I  am  talking  strangely,  for  I 
know  you  have  never  considered  me  especially 
enamoured  of  my  husband,  but  the  great  danger 
through  which  he  passed  taught  me  a  lesson.  Whets 
I  realized  how  near  I  had  come  to  losing  him,  I  knew 


B32        OOBJL  mam  WITH  A  IMAXT  WKAFOM. 

how  dear  he  was.     You  would  hardly  know  him 
ke  is  so  much  changed  in  his  manner." 

Cora  read  with  a  sigh. 

"  They  are  all  happy  but  me,"  she  said  to  henwlt 

She  thought  seriously  of  suicide  and  dwelt  upet 
the  relative  merits  of  pistols  and  poisons.  She  used 
to  think  of  herself  lying  dead  and  of  the  horror  of  the 
people  who  made  the  discovery.  She  wondered  what 
Jack  would  say  when  he  heard  it.  She  began  several 
farewell  letters,  which  she  meant  to  send  to  him,  but 
they  were  never  finished.  Some  of  them  were  too  lov- 
ing, some  too  severe.  Would  he  care  very  much  if  he 
knew  she  killed  herself  on  his  account  ?  Her  doubts 
upon  this  question  restrained  her.  She  wanted  very 
much  to  do  something  to  make  him  care.  There  must 
be  some  way  to  penetrate  his  hard  exterior.  Humili- 
ation on  her  part  could  go  no  farther.  She  had  offered 
herself  to  him,  only  to  be  spurned.  She  had  begged 
immodestly  for  one  embrace — and  been  refused. 

And  yet  she  had  heard  him  admit  that  he  had  not 
forgotten  their  old  love — that  he  still  bore  its  effects 
upon  him.  She  had  heard  him  cry  in  anguished 
tones  :  "  Do  you  think  /  have  not  suffered  also  f  Do 
you  think  it  was  easy  for  me  to  give  up  the  dearest 
thing  in  my  life  ?"  He  still  loved  her,  but  he  had  that 
exasperating  control  which  she  so  totally  lacked. 
Was  there  no  way  to  move  him  ?  She  would  hart 
purchased  his  repentance  even  at  the  cost  of  death,  if 
she  had  been  sure  it  would  have  that  result. 

When  at  nearly  the  lowest  ebb  of  discouragement, 
Cora  received  a  letter  from  Lieutenant  Stanhope.  It 
was  couched  in  most  respectful  language  and  stated 
that,  notwithstanding  her  merited  refusal  on  a  pre- 
vious occasion,  he  hoped  for  one  more  chamoe  to  redeem 


OOBA  mZKH  WTTK  A   Iff  AJtF    VTXAFOV.  33$ 

himself  in  the  estimation  of  a  lady  for  whom  he  eater- 
tained  the  highest  regard.  Cora,  on  first  perusing  th« 
letter,  threw  it  into  the  waste  basket,  recalling  with 
•welling  bosom  the  insult  he  had  offered  her  on  that 
memorable  night  when  she  went  with  Belle  in  search 
of  "amusement."  An  hour  later  she  wrote  him  a 
brief  letter,  telling  him  he  might  come. 

She  would  be  safe  in  her  own  house,  and  he  was 
undeniably  good  company.  She  was  literally  dying 
of  ennui. 

Stanhope  was  at  the  Ocean  House  and  lost  no  time 
in  presenting  himself  at  the  Johnson  villa.  When 
Cora  came  into  the  drawing-room  to  meet  -loi,  after 
an  unconscionable  delay,  he  rose  and  bowed  deferen- 
tially. 

"  Your  kindness  is  more  than  I  had  hoped  for,"  he 
said.  "  I  had  feared  my  sins  were  quite  past  forgive- 
ness." 

She  motioned  him  to  a  chair. 

"  Let  us  talk  of  something  more  agreeable,"  was 
her  rejoinder.  "  How  long  have  you  been  at  Newport  r" 

A  pleased  smile  broke  like  sunshine  over  the  hand- 
some features  of  the  officer. 

"  Talking  of  agreeable  things,  how  long  have  I  beea 
here?"  he  said.  "That  is  very  delightful.  Well,  I 
same  late  last  night.  My  ship  is  at  Boston,  but  I  saw 
In  the  society  column  of  a  newspaper  that  you  wer« 
here,  and  I  ran  over.  Now,  speaking  of  other  agree- 
able things,  how  are  you  enjoying  yourself  ?" 

"  I  ?"  she  uttered  the  word  with  a  sneer.  "  I  enjoy 
nothing  I  asked  you  to  come  here  that  I  might  left 
you  so  I  am  utterly  miserable  !" 

A  look  of  concern  drove  the  smile  from  his  face. 

"  Really  1    I  am  surprised,  Mrs.  Johnson  !" 


184 

She  stamped  her  foot  impatiently. 

"  I  prefer  my  first  name  ?" 

"  I  prefer  it  also,"  he  said,  "  but  I  feared  it  wo*  14 
seem  too  familiar.  Well,  Cora,  is  there  anything  I  GUI 
do  for  you  ?  Be  sure  you  may  command  me." 

She  twisted  the  rings  on  her  hands  for  some  time 
before  she  replied 

"  I  want  a  friend." 

"  I  will  be  one  to  you,"  said  the  lieutenant,  earnestly. 
<l  I  would  stake  my  last  drop  of  blood  and  my  last  penny 
in  your  service  !" 

She  raised  her  heavy  eyes  to  his  face. 

"  I  do  not  want  a  lover.  I  want  a  friend.  You  are 
not  the  man.' 

He  hesitated,  not  knowing  what  words  would  please 
her  best. 

"  You  have  a  husband,"  he  ventured  at  random. 

The  shot  struck  home. 

"  I  do  not  need  to  be  reminded  of  it"  she  said.  "  It 
is  on  that  account  that  I  need  a  friend.  I  must  leave 
my  husband.  I  cannot  much  longer  endure  the  life  I 
am  leading.  In  this  emergency  I  need  a  friend — a  true 
friend — to  advise  me." 

"  Of  what  do  you  accuse  Mr.  Johnson  ?"  asked  Stan- 
hope. 

"  Of  nothing." 

He  made  a  bold  stroke. 

"  You  still  love  Elton,  then." 

She  did  not  dispute  his  assertion. 

"  I  saw  him  at  Boston  a  few  days  ago,"  pursued 
Stanhope.  "  He  told  me  he  was  there  on  busiwess 
In  a  curious  way  I  found  out  what  the  business  was. 
He  has  resolved  to  assist  some  deserving  young  stu- 
dent each  year  to  enter  Harvard,  as  a  testimony  of  hi» 


OO*A   STRIKES    WITH   A   §HA»   WXAPOV.  89 

obligation  to  Mr.  Wyllis  for  a  similar  service.  By  the 
way,  Mrs. — excuse  me,  I  mean  Cora, — what  arc  the  facts 
about  his  saving  you  from  drowning,  out  West.  I  hare 
Sicard  it  in  so  many  different  ways,  I  long  to  know  the 
truth." 

She  told  him  the  story,  in  its  outline. 

"  By  Jove !"  he  cried,  when  she  finished,  "  you 
ought  to  love  that  man  !  I  love  you  myself,  madly, 
but  I  could  set  up  no  claim  to  offset  his  !  Get  a 
divorce  and  marry  him  !  D — n  it,  it's  your  duty  '" 

She  grew  confidential  under  the  melting  influence 
of  their  conversation. 

"  Even  if  I  were  free  I  would  never  marry  again," 
she  said.  "  I  think  I  have  outgrown  the  capacity  for 
affection.  You  have  no  idea  what  things  surge  through 
my  brain.  Sometimes  I  fear  I  shall  become  danger- 
ous !" 

He  affected  to  make  light  of  her  remark  and  sug- 
gested that  she  try  bromide. 

"You  will  believe  me  some  day  when  you  hear 
what  I  shall  do,"  she  replied.  "I  shall  astound  the 
country  yet !" 

Still  he  vould  not  take  her  words  seriously. 

"  If  you  wish  to  make  a  real  sensation,  you  might 
elope  with  me,"  he  said.  "  I  will  throw  up  my  com- 
mission, take  you  to  Europe,  and  become  your  devoted 
llave  You  had  best  think  of  it." 

Cora  seemed  for  a  minute  to  be  lost  in  reflection. 
Then  she  looked  up  and  said  * 

"  If  your  proposition  were  a  serious  one,  I  might 
consider  it." 

His  heart  gave  a  great  bound. 

"  Do  not  tantalize  a  poor  fellow  !"  he  cried.  "  You 
3we  Elton  and  you  do  not  love  me.  I  am  wise  enough 


836        OOKA  mums  wrra.  A  IHAXP  WTCAPOV. 

to  know  th?c  This  scar  oa  my  head," — hv  pointed 
out  the  place — "  will  keep  me  from  unwelcome  liber- 
ties with  you  hereafter.  But  if  you  did  meaa  what 
you  say,  if  there  was  the  ghost  of  a  show  you  would? 
do  it — I  would  throw  up  everything  fo.  you." 

A  knock  at  the  door  at  this  moment  was  made  by 
a  man-servant,  who  announced  that  Mr.  Johnson  had 
just  arrived  and  wished  to  see  his  wife  at  once. 

"  Tell  him  I  am  engaged  and  cannot  see  him  to- 
day !"  responded  Cora,  paling.  "  If  he  sends  any 
other  message,"  she  added,  "you  need  not  trouble 
yourself  to  deliver  it." 

Stanhope  heard  the  answer  in  surprise.  He  had 
not  supposed  hostilities  had  reached  that  point  and  he 
said  as  much  to  Cora.  She  replied  that  she  had  not 
seen  her  husband  alone  for  many  months  and  that  she 
considered  his  visit  impertinent.  While  they  were 
talking  thus  a  loud  noise  was  heard  in  the  hallway, 
and  presently  the  lawyer  burst  into  the  room,  in  an 
angry  and  excited  manner,  in  spite  of  the  protestations 
of  the  domestic. 

"  Mind  your  business  !"  he  cried  to  the  man.  "  You 
shah  be  discharged  at  once  !  How  dare  you  question 
my  right  to  visit  a  room  occupied  by  my  wife  ?"  He 
stalked  across  the  floor  and  then,  for  the  first  time,  his 
his  eye  fell  on  the  lieutenant.  "  Ah  !  you  are  here* 
Sir!"  he  cried,  addressing  that  gentleman,  threateningly. 
*  That  is  why  I  couldn't  come  in,  is  it  ?  This  is  the 
friend  whose  company  you  prefer  to  mine,  eh  !"  he 
added,  to  Cora.  "  A  nice  state  of  afiairs,  Mrs.  John- 
son !" 

Cora  rose  with  a  calmness  that  was  a  wonder  ere* 
to  herself. 

"You  are  quite  right"  she  answered,  with  dignity. 


OOKA   STKIBES   WITH  A  KKAXP  WXAPMr.  387 

M I  prefer  the  company  of  a  gentleman  to  that  of  a 
ruflan  at  any  time.  Lieutenant  Stanhope,  I  regret 
the  necessity,  under  such  circumstances,  to  introduce 
to  yon  my  husband,  the  HONORABLE  J.  S.  Johnsofl, 
of  the  New  York  Senate  !" 

"I  have  heard  of  Lieutenant  Stamhope,"  h« 
sneered,  "  and  also  of  his  friend,  Captain  M&wkins,  or 
Jawkins,  or  Lawkins,  with  whom  my  wife  and  her 
friend,  Mrs.  Wyllis,  spent  a  night  of  reyelry  at  a  cer- 
tain restaurant  and  hotel  some  time  ago !  It  will 
doubtless  give  him  pleasure  to  see  his  name  coupled 
with  hers  as  co-respondent  in  the  divorce  suit  which  I 
am  about  to  institute  !  I  am  glad  to  see  Lieutenant 
Stanhope — very  glad  indeed — so  as  to  know  him  here- 
after, but  just  now  I  would  inform  him  that  his  pres- 
ence is  not  required  here,  and  beg  that  he  take  a 
speedy  departure." 

Lieutenant  Stanhope  bowed  again  gracefully  and 
took  up  his  hat  and  cane,  which  lay  upon  an  adjacent 
table. 

"  I  shall  always  be  glad  to  see  you  at  any  proper 
time,  sir,"  he  said  to  the  senator,  "in  court  or  else- 
where, to  protect  my  own  character  and  that  of  this 
lady,  which  you  have  maligned." 

He  was  about  to  depart,  when  Mr.  Johnson  ad- 
dressed his  wife,  with  even  greater  fury  than  before : 

"Now,  madam,  I  have  something  to  say  \x>y**r 

Cora  called  to  the  lieutenant,  as  he  was  about  to 
close  the  door,  and  te  returned  to  the  room. 

"Fred!* 

"Yes,  Cora!" 

"  I  beg  you  to  remain  for  the  present !  I  am  afraid 
to  be  left  alone  with  this  man  !" 

Stanhope   complied,  with    the  ss-nae    courtesy    of 


838        OO&A  ttttiKBft  WTTM  A 


manner  which  he  had  shown  on  taking  his  leave,  aa4 
Mr.  Johnson's  wrath  burst  all  bounds. 

"  '  Fred  !'  '  Cora  !'  "  he  cried.  "  You  call  each  other 
by  your  pet  names,  do  you  !" 

Mis.  Johnson,  with  the  deepest  of  outward  coaa- 
posure,  addressed  her  husband  : 

"  You  have  said  quite  enough  ;  and  much  more 
than  I  should  have  stayed  to  hear  but  for  the  presence 
of  a  third  party.  I  am  now  going  to  leave  your  house. 
If,  as  you  say,  you  have  evidence  which  will  secure  a 
divorce  from  me,  you  can  produce  it  at  the  proper 
place  and  need  not  offend  my  ears  with  it  at  this  time. 
I  have  only  one  question  to  ask  you—  do  you  wish  me 
to  take  Willie,  or  shall  I  leave  him  tto  you  until  this 
case  is  decided  !" 

He  turned  on  her,  completely  beside  himself,  and 
uttered  a  string  of  oaths. 

"By  ---  !  do  you  think  I  want  my  son  taken 
away  by  a  --  !" 

Stanhope  would  have  struck  him  with  his  fist,  but 
the  wife  held  him  back.  She  had  a  sharper  weapon. 

"  Your  son  !"  she  cried.     "  YOURS  !  Ha,  ha  .'" 

Then  the  walls  whirled  around  and  all  grew  dark 
to  the  senator  When  he  could  see  plainly  again,  to 


I  MKAJT  TO  TOUCH  JAOK  SLICK7! 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

al  UXAN  TO  TOUCH  JACK  ELTON'S  H«A*T  P* 

Claude  Wyllis,  one  morning  late  that  autumn, 
ascended  the  high  steps  of  a  handsome  dwelling  on 
Fifty-ninth  Street,  New  York  City.  His  experience  at 
the  Berlin  fire,  as  well  as  the  mental  agony  which  fol- 
lowed, bore  perceptible  effects  in  his  countenance  and 
frame.  A  few  furrows,  hitherto  unknown,  had  made 
their  impression  on  his  brow.  Some  white  hairs  had 
found  their  way  among  his  dark  locks.  His  slight 
stoop  showed  an  illness  hardly  yet  over.  The  sea 
voyage  had  benefitted  him,  but  he  had  been  through 
too  much  to  expect  an  immediate  cure. 

He  read  the  name  on  the  door-plate  and  then  rang 
the  bell.  When  a  servant  ushered  him  into  the  recep- 
tion room  he  asked  her  to  give  his  card  to  "  Mrs. 
Grover."  In  a  few  minutes  came  the  request  that  he 
would  walk  up  stairs. 

Cora  Johnson  rose  on  his  entrance.  As  he  looked 
icto  her  cold  face,  he  felt  a  depth  of  pity  through  hit 
entire  being. 

**  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  here,"  were  his  first 
**  living  under  a  false  name,  and  hidden  from 
family.* 

She  heard  him  with  perfect  impassivity. 

"  I  expected  a  lecture  when  I  admitted  you,16  sha 
said,  quietly.  "  Please  make  it  as  brief  AS  possi- 
ble." 

A    statue    would    have    seemed    as    likely  to  he 


840      "X  HEAD  TO  TOUOM  JACK  BLTUV'l  MSAJR  P 

affected  by  anything  he    could    say,    bnt  he 
en  : 

"  Belle  heard  you  had  left  your  husband,  and  made 
me  promise  to  take  every  pains  to  find  you.  I  only 
reached  America  day  before  yesterday.  Belle  is  at 
Baden." 

"  With  your  mistress,"  said  Cora. 

Wyllis  shrank  back  at  the  words.  They  hurt  him 
in  a  tender  place. 

"You  are  mistaken,"  he  said.  "  The  lady  of  whom 
you  speak  is  merely  my  friend,  and  Belle's.  No  one 
can  prove  anything  against  her." 

She  did  not  seem  to  care. 

"  People  make  talk  because  Lieutenant  Stanhope 
calls  here,"  she  said,  "and  yet  they  can  prove  nothing 
either.  He  may  come  to  see  me,  or  he  may  come  to 
examine  the  carvings  on  the  stairways.  He  may  come 
at  night  and  remain  till  morning.  It  proves  nothing. 
You  and  I  know  that !" 

Every  word  she  uttered  and  the  tone  in  which  she 
spoke  convinced  him  anew  that  talk  would  be  wasted 
on  her,  but  he  said  : 

"  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you  ?" 

"There  is  nothing  that  I  want  If  there  were, 
Fr*d  would  hardly  like  to  have  me  call  on  another  for 
it." 

"  I  heard  you  were  going  on  the  stage,"  said  Claude. 
M I  could  not  believe  it" 

4t  It  is  true,"  she  replied,  composedly.  "  I  have 
signed  with  English  &  Co.  for  twenty  weeks." 

He  stared  at  her  blankly. 

u  But — you  know  nothing  of  the  theatre*** 

"  It  is  not  necessary,  they  tell  me" 

"What  shall  you  play?" 


MBAV  TO  TOUCH  JAO&   XLTOX1!  MXAJtT  P       841 


*  Cleopatra." 

Wyllis  rose  and  paced  the  floor.  Cleopatra  f 
This  slender  girl  with  the  face  of  a  madonna  portray* 
t*g  that  Egyptian  strumpet !  It  was  inconceivable  ! 

4>  Do  you  mean  it  ?"  he  asked. 

"Yes.' 

"  Have  you  ever  read  the  play  ?" 

"  I  am  reading  it  now  for  the  first  time.  Mr.  Clarke, 
of  the  Union  Square  company,  is  teaching  me.  Hv 
says  I  will  do  very  well." 

He  tried  to  imagine  it,  but  could  not. 

"  When  will  your  season  open  ?" 

"  November  jrd.     Mantali  will  support  me." 

Claude  started. 

"  Mantali  !  Why,  his  reputation  is  terrible.  H«r 
kfcs  figured  in  half-a-dozen  divorces  !" 

She  retained  the  impassive  look. 

"  Yes-;  that  is  why  I  have  engaged  hhn." 

He  began  to  think  he  understood,  at  last. 

"  You  are  doing  this  to  distress  your  husband ;  it 
that  it  ?" 

Then  her  eyes  flashed. 

"Don't  think  me  so  inane !  I  would  not  move  my 
hand  to  give  him  pain  or  pleasure.  There  is  another 
man  whose  heart  I  mean  to  touch — Jack  Elton  !" 

He  paused,  utterly  astonished,  and  then  cried, 
fervently : 

"  Poor  Jack  !  It  will  indeed  cause  him  the  greatest 
pain  !  He  loves  you  as  devotedly  as  he  did  when  he 
was  a  student  at  Cambridge.  I  saw  him  yesterday 
and  every  reference  to  you  brought  the  moisture  ta 
bis  eyes." 

"You  talked  to  himr  she  said.  "I  thought  yo» 
were  no  longer  friends." 


849  "  z  incur  TO  TOVOK  JACK  XLTOV^I  XXABT  V' 

"  He  wrote  me  in  Europe,"  said  Claude,  "  asfclfef 
that  the  old  friendship  might  be  renewed,  and  I  gladly 
embraced  the  suggestion.  My  wife  brought  it  about 
He  has  asked  her  pardon  for  the  unjust  suspicions 
which  he  once  communicated  to  you." 

"  He  can  relent,  then  !"  she  said,  coldly.  *  1  ii* 
not  think  he  could  ever  be  wrong.  I  took  him  for  aft 
unchanging  rock.  So  he  pretended  to  love  me  still 
Well,  we  shall  see  !" 

They  talked  then  of  the  Berlin  fire  and  he  told  the 
story  over  for  her  benefit.  When  the  conversation 
lagged,  he  asked,  suddenly  : 

"  Are  you  living  here  as  Stanhope's  wife  ?" 

She  showed  no  sign  of  objection  to  the  directness 
of  the  question. 

"  I  expected  you  would  ask  that,"  she  replied,  "  and 
I  will  tell  you,  on  one  condition." 

"  And  that  is — " 

"That  you  will  not  repeat  my  answer." 

"  I  promise,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  then,  upon  my  soul !  I  am  not ;  but  I  want 
the  public  to  think  so.  My  contract  with  English  & 
Co.  stipulates  that  I  shall  encourage  the  gossip  about 
jae  in  every  possible  way  I  don't  mean  that  this 
iw  in  writing,  but  it  is  our  verbal  agreement.  My  hus- 
band's application  for  a  divorce  has  been  heralded 
everywhere,  some  of  the  newspapers  giving  columns 
lo  descriptions  of  myself  and  accounts  of  our  marriage. 
Not  a  day  passes  that  the  interest  is  not  purposely 
fanned  by  some  new  bit  of  information.  To-morrow 
my  agreement  to  star  as  'Cleopatra'  will  be  tele- 
graphed over  the  country.  My  managers  are  working 
it  shrewdly,  and  they  need  to,  if  they  are  to  makr 
much  money  tor  themselves  cut  of  the  operation." 


M  I  MIA*   TO  TOUGH  JAOX   KLTOw's  MIAMI  I"      841 

He  listened  with  growing  surprise. 
"  They  are  to  pay  me  one  thousand  dollars  a  night 
for   the   twenty    weeks,"  she  added.     "My   contract 
guarantees  me  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  clear  of 
expenses  for  the  season.     It  is  not  so  bad." 

"  One  hundred  thousand  ?"  gasped  Claude.  "  Why, 
that  is  more  than  Morris  or  Modjeska  could  get !" 

Cora  acknowledged  this  with  a  nod. 

"  But  neither  of  them  has  a  divorce  case  on  the 
docket,"  she  said.  "  They  have  no  deserted  husband 
belonging  to  the  ancient  aristocracy.  There  is,  in  their 
case,  no  rising  young  physician,  dear  to  thousaads  of 
the  upper  ten,  whose  name  can  be  brought  into  the 
scale  as  the  lover  who  rescued  the  actress  and  spent 
the  night  with  her  in  a  cave !  Each  of  these  things 
has  its  commercial  value  !" 

A  look  which  was  little  short  of  horror  crept  over 
Claude's  face  as  he  heard  her. 

"  Would  you  drag  Elton  into  this !"  he  cried, 
"  making  his  heroic  action  in  saving  your  life  the  dag- 
ger with  which  to  stab  him  !" 

"Yes,"  she  answered.  "I  have  even  thought  of 
admitting  that  he  assaulted  me  while  we  were  ia  the 
cave." 

"  But  it  is  not  true  !" 

"  Nothing  is  true  !"  said  the  woman,  calmly. 

He  uttered  a  deep  sigh  and  cried  : 

"  Can  this  be  that  innocent  young  girl  whose  anger 
$t  a  playful  kiss  nearly  resulted  in  the  death  of  the 
man  who  offered  it !  I  could  not  have  believed  it, 
Cora !" 

"  No  r  she  said.  "  It  is  not  that  inaoceat  girl !  It 
is  a  woman  desperate  at  the  wrongs  done  her,  whose 
only  gratification  must  come  from  reprie»ls.  That 


844    "  i  XXAJT  TO  TOUCH  JAOK  SLTorii  MXAH  P* 

girl  had  a  heart  This  woman  has  a  lump  of  ice  when 
that  organ  should  be  located.  That  girl  was  the  per- 
fection of  modesty.  This  woman  could  walk  naked 
from  Harlem  to  the  Battery.  I  suffered  the  horrors 
of  life  with  a  man  I  did  not  love,  and  I  learned  at  least 
to  endure,  but  when  spurned  by  the  one  on  whom  all 
my  affection  was  centred,  I  succumbed.  What  you 
see  before  you  is  not  Cora  Madison,  but  a  wreck  that 
no  man  can  rescue  !" 

"  I  shall  cable  Belle  to  come  and  see  you.  She  may 
have  some  influence  to  keep  you  from  doing  these  mad 
things,"  he  said. 

"  Why  not  Lulu  ?"  she  asked. 

She  did  not  know  how  much  she  hurt  him  by  that 
insinuation. 

"  Don't  speak  in  that  way !"  he  said,  pleadingly. 
"  Miss  Bornstein  is  very  dear  to  me,  but  for  fear  that 
our  intimacy  might  tarnish  her  reputation  with  the 
thoughtless,  we  have  decided  to  be  no  more  together. 
I  have  learned  to  love  my  wife  and,  God  helping  me, 
I  will  be  true  to  her  while  I  live  !" 

Cora  retained  her  impassive  expression  of  coun- 
tenance, but  her  voice  trembled  slightly  as  she  said  : 

"  You  have  learned  to  love  :  /  to  hate  !  You  have 
BO  right  to  judge  me  !  Mr.  Wyllis,  this  interview  may 
as  well  close." 

He  rose  at  the  suggestion,  but  &  sublime  pity  for 
the  unfortunate  creature  before  him  nerved  him  for  « 
last  effort. 

"  Cora — your  little  sister  I" 

She  drew  a  long  breath. 

"Jessie  would  have  kept  me  tack,  if  anything 
could,  but  I  have  weighed  all  and  decided.  Evea  my 


"  I  MIAN   TO   TOUCH   JACK   ELTOJf'i  HXJJTT I"      94ft 

m«th«r,  were  she  living,  could  not  dissuade  me, 
What  is  it  to  you  ?" 

H*J  had  walked  to  the  door  and  was  about  to  Laav^ 
«rhen  sh^e  uttered  the  closing  question.  He  turned  and 
placed  his  hand  tenderly  upon  her  shoulder. 

"  Cora,  it  is  everything  to  me  ;  for,  by  0ne  thought- 
less act,  I  caused  all  this  misery  !" 

"  You  !" 

"Yes.  Have  you  not  thought  of  that?  My  stolen 
kiss  in  the  buggy  on  that  long  past  day  has  spread  out 
to  this  fearful  measure.  You  wrote  of  it  to  Jack  ;  that 
made  him  refuse  to  touch  any  more  of  my  money,  and 
left  him  penniless  and  hopeless  during  those  months 
when  Johnson  was  gaining  the  advantage.  But  for 
that  kiss  Jack  would  have  finished  his  education  as  he 
intended,  and  you  would  now  be  the  happiest  wife  in 
the  world  !  Do  you  wonder  I  care  ?  I  see  you  going 
to  destruction,  and  my  conscience  cries  loudly  that  I 
am  to  blame  !" 

She  heard  him  quietly,  but  the  words  had  no  more 
effect  on  her  than  those  which  preceded  them. 

"  You  are  wrong,"  she  replied.  "  I  am  the  victim, 
not  of  your  folly,  but  of  a  FATE  which  you  could 
neither  have  aided  nor  averted.  In  spite  of  all  jou  did 
Jack  would  have  reached  me  in  time  to  stop  my  mar- 
riage, except  for  a  broken  car-wheel.  FATE  fought 
against  me,  even  to  the  imperfection  in  a  piece  of  iron. 
Then,  after  I  had  learned  to  suffer  and  to  bear  my 
burden,  FATE  threw  Jack  and  I  together  in  that  Lake 
Pepin  accident  that  opened  all  my  wounds  afresh.  A 
gypsy  predicted  it  when  I  was  a  girl  Did  you  know 
that?" 

Claude  shook  his  head.  He  thought  her  mind  waa 
wandering. 


Mi  OLXOPATBA. 

"  Before  Jack  spoke  to  me  of  love  I  had  my  fartvtM 
told  by  aa  old  crone  whom  I  met  hi  the  street  at  Cam- 
bridge. She  told  me  I  would  lore  a  tall,  hamd**me 
young  man,  who  had  many  books  aad  would  make 
wonderful  medicines.  She  took  up  an  a^ethyat 
which  I  wore  and  gazing  down  into  it,  said,  '  I  se* 
you  lying  in  his  arms  ;  I  see  you  lying  ea  his  bed.'  IK 
my  foolish  ecstacy  I  thought  the  words  typical  of  mar- 
riage. I  now  know  they  referred  to  that  night  in  the 
cave." 

She  spoke  collectedly  and  he  no  longer  had  doubts 
that  she  was  herself ;  but  there  seemed  no  mone  that 
he  could  say,  and  he  silently  left  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIIL 

CLEOPATRA. 

On  the  evening  of  November  3rd  the  most  populai 
theatre  in  New  York  was  crowded;  though  the  regular 
prices  were  doubled,  seats  sold  at  a  premium.  All 
the  wealth  and  fashion  were  there.  The  human 
race  has  not  changed  so  very  much  since  the  aristo- 
cratic dames  of  France  paid  extravagant  prices  for 
windows  that  overlooked  the  scaffold  where  the  assas- 
sin of  Henri  Quatre  was  tortured  to  death  with  red- 
hot  pincers  and  boiling  oil.  The  American  woman 
who  shudders  at  the  idea  of  a  bull-fight  in  Spain  will 
go  to  the  criminal  court  and  listen  unmoved  at  the 
trial  of  a  hapless  wretch,  whose  sufferings  she  views 
unconcernedly  through  her  glasses,  as  he  sits  in  'he 


OUWFATBA. 


94ft 


dock  aad  feels  the  rope  tightening  around  his  acck, 
The  ladies  who  came  to  the  New  York  theatre,  oa  the 
ttight  in  question,  did  not  expect  to  witness  a  tru« 
readition  of  Shakespeare's  wonderful  drama.  They 
came  to  look  at  a  wife  who  had  made  herself  notori- 
ous, a  mother  who  had  deserted  her  child,  a  woman 
who  had  wantonly  dragged  the  name  of  an  honored 
family  in  the  dust. 

An  edifying  spectacle,  noble  ladies !  Get  your 
lorgnettes  ready  !  Miss  nothing  of  the  sight !  It  may 
be  your  turn  next ! 

On  the  play  bills  was  this  announcement : 


Mrs.  John  Smith  Johnson, 

SUPPORTED    BY 

SIGNOR  RAFFEAL  MANTALI, 

For  sis  nigkti  only,  at  tkii  kouM,  im 

"ANTONY;AND;CLEOPATRA." 


"  Mrs.  John  Smith  Johnson  !"  Why  ?  Because  that 
aame  had,  like  other  things,  "  a  commercial  value  !" 

Who  would  hare  cared  to  see  "  Cora  Madison"  act, 
or  "  Mrs.  Grover  ?"  The  Johnson  name  was  •*  famous 
one.  It  had  been  borne  by  high  officials  in  State  and 
church.  No  one  could  remember  when  scandal  had 
Castened  itself —until  now — mpon  that  high  escutcheon* 


B48 

The  audience  was  not  there  to  see  "  Cleopatra1'— they 
did  not  expect  it.  They  came  to  see  Mrs.  John  Smith 
Johnson  and  paid  their  money  with  that  object. 

Secondarily,  they  came  to  see  Mantali.  They 
always  liked  the  dear  fellow,  the  terror  of  jealous  hus- 
bands, the  actor  who  had  been  facetiously  surnamed 
"  the  Sieve,"  on  account  of  the  bullet  wounds  received 
in  many  brisk  engagements,  in  which  he  had  invaria- 
bly retreated  under  heavy  firing  when  detected  with 
unfaithful  spouses.  Only  a  month  before,  a  "high- 
toned  "  married  lady  had  taken  poison  on  his  account, 
on  discovering  that  he  had  another  intrigue,  the  party 
inculpated  being  her  maiden  aunt.  Mantali  had  a 
feminine  appearance.  His  hair  was  curly  and  his 
hands  and  feet  small.  No  doubt  he  would  make  a 
famous  Antony  ! 

When  the  curtain  rose,  everybody  was  obliged  to 
admit  that  English  &  Co.  had  staged  the  piece  well. 
The  magnificence  of  the  accessories  delighted  dl  eyes, 
There  was  a  burst  of  enthusiasm  at  the  scene  y,  but  it 
hushed  itself,  as  if  by  concerted  arrangement,  whea 
**  Cleopatra  "  appeared. 

Her  costume  was  historically  correct-  her  beauty 
had  never  shown  so  brightly — but  not  the  clapping  ol 
one  pair  of  hands  greeted  her.  The  housv,  was  still  as 
death.  New  York  had  paid  to  see,  not  to  endorse 
her.  No  one  had  the  .emerity  to  applaud. 

Hush  !  she  is  speaking  : 

w  If  it  be  lore  indeed,  tell  me  how  much  r 

Was  this  A  Cleopatra  !  This  slender  creature  with 
the  musical  voice,  with  those  filmf  skirt*  through 
which  her  lower  limbs  outlined  themselves  at  every 
motion  !  No  more  than  that  perfumed  Adonis  w'th 


849 

her  was  a  "  triple  pillai  of  the  world."  The  lorgnettes 
were  used  unceasingly.  The  actress  was  devoured, 
metaphorically,  by  the  men  and  women  before  her. 

"By  JOTC,  I  don't  blame  Stanhope!"  whispered 
one  old  rou6  to  another.  "  She  can't  met,  but  her  figure 
Is  delicious  !" 

"  I'd  take  Mantali's  place  for  nothing  a  night  and 
find  my  own  costumes !"  said  a  young  blood  to  his 
companion.  "To  think  of  old  Johnson  letting  that 
slip  him  !" 

The  ladies  looked  with  all  their  eyes,  but  did  not 
comment  then.  They  were  putting  their  own  meanings 
to  the  words  she  uttered  : 

"  Excellent  falsehood  I 
Why  did  he  marry  Fnbia  and  not  lore  her  r-' 

And  this : 

"  Why  thould  I  think  yon  can  be  miae,  and  tro*, 
Though  you  in  swearing  shake  the  throntd  god*. 
Who  have  been  false  to  Fulvia  ?" 

What  would  Stanhope  think  of  that  ?  Many  lorg- 
nettes were  turned  to  the  box  where  the  handsome 
young  lieutenant  sat  with  a  party  of  his  friends.  It 
was  his  occasion.  He  knew  a  thousand  men  in  that 
audience  envied  his  supposed  good  fortune.  The 
Shakespearean  words  did  not  penetrate  his  brain. 
He  only  heard  the  mellifluous  tones,  only  saw  the 
shapely  form  and  pathetic  face  as  she  recited  : 

"  Give  m«  to  drink  man-d-r-a-g-o~r-a  T' 

The  first  act  was  over,  out  there  was  no  call  before 
the  curtain  for  the  principals.  A  buzzing  arose  in  the 


iff  CLBOCATBA. 

house.  People  talked  for  the  relief  it  gave  these, 
Some  wondered  if  there  would  be  any  question  about 
Mr.  Johnson  getting  his  divorce.  Some  thought  Stan- 
hope ought  not  to  make  himself  so  conspicuous  in  his 
box.  Some  asked  if  anybody  had  seen  Dr.  Elton,  and 
others  discussed  the  possibility  of  his  being  called  to 
the  stand  to  testify. 

"There's  no  object  in  Elton's  coming  here,"  said 
one  facetious  young  lady.  "If  all  we  hear  is  true,  he 
law  much  more  of  her  in  that  Wisconsin  cave  than  we 
do  to-night  Any  way,  I  think  he's  perfectly  lovely, 
and  I  don't  care  what  he  did.  I  wish  he'd  ask  me  to 
marry  him,  that's  all!" 

The  play  went  on.  New  Yorkers  have  not  had 
time  yet  to  forget  it.  The  newspapers  told  the  next 
day  how  reckless  "  Cleopatra  "  grew  towards  the  close, 
when  she  assumed  the  most  wanton  attitudes.  Nor 
did  they  forget  to  comment  on  the  fact  that  when  she 
put  the  aspic  to  her  bosom  she  uncovered  herself 
beyond  the  verge  of  even  stage  modesty,  and  gave  a 
literal  meaning  to  the  lines  : 

"  Dost  thou  not  sw  my  baby  at  my  breast, 
That  sucks  the  nurse  asleep  ?" 

English  &  Co.  had  one  hundred  and  nineteen 
lights  left  of  their  contract  and  they  meant  to  have 
the  amusement  loving  public  of  other  cities  thoroughly 
excited  over  the  coming  spectacle,  before  the  tickets 
were  placed  on  sale.  While  all  the  critics  abused  the 
actress,  their  comments  were  of  a  nature  to  increase 
the  demand  for  places,  and  the  speculators  who  had 
seats  left  reaped  a  large  profit. 

Mrs.  John  Smith  Johnson  was  warmly  congratv- 


OLBOPATKA.  SKI 

iated  by  her  managers,  before  she  stepped  into  Stan- 
hope's  carriage,  at  the  close  of  the  play.  The  crowd  that 
waited  for  her  in  the  street  was  so  great  the  police  had 
to  force  an  exit  for  the  horses.  It  was  a  silent  crowd, 
however,  like  that  which  greeted  her  in  the  theatre. 
Not  a  cheer  went  up,  and  the  faces  Cora  saw  bore  an 
expression  she  did  not  like. 

Claude  Wyllis  had  seen  the  play.  An  impulse  h« 
could  not  resist  drew  him  to  the  place.  The  deathly 
silence  with  which  Cora  was  received  smote  him.  He 
felt  the  awfulness  of  the  situation.  He  had  discussed 
it  over  and  over  with  Elton,  and  they  had  given  it  up 
in  despai:.  Mrs.  Johnson  had  made  a  legal  contract 
and  must  carry  it  out.  Claude  wished  the  audience 
was  smaller.  The  great  crowd  seemed  to  him  like  an 
encouragement  of  a  very  wicked  thing.  So  long  as 
money  could  be  made  by  her  managers,  they  would 
keep  Cora  before  the  public.  There  was  no  help. 

Another  suffering  man  was  there  :  In  a  corntr  of 
a  box,  sitting  where  he  could  be  wholly  unobserved, 
Mr.  Johnson  endured  every  scene.  He  had  not  set 
eyes  on  his  wife  since  she  left  him  at  Newport  with  a 
doubt  of  her  child's  paternity  on  her  lips.  It  seemed 
to  him  like  a  hideous  dream  when  she  came  forth  in 
garments  artfully  designed  to  expose  herself  before 
three  thousand  witnesses  of  her  shame.  When  she 
threw  open  to  their  gaze  with  such  utter  abandon  the 
breast  where  he  had  so  often  seen  her  innocent  boy, 
he  was  struck  as  with  a  sledge-hammer ! 

Some  time  after  the  curtain  fell,  he  crept  out  of  the 
theatre,  as  he  thought,  unobserved,  but  Wyllis  met  him 
on  the  stairs  and  gently  drew  his  arm  within  his  own. 
When  they  had  entered  a  carriage,  Claude  essayed  to 
comfort  the  unhappy  man,  but  that  wa»  impossibla 
19 


•01  CUKVATKA. 

Claude  could  not  even  get  replies  to  anything  he  said. 
He  seemed  ca mpletely  dazed  and  Wyllis  left  him  at  hla 
door  with  the  feeling  that  his  reason  had  suffered  a« 
injury  from  which  it  would  not  easily  recover. 

Dr.  Elton  did  not  see  "  Cleopatra."  The  wealth  of 
worlds  would  not  have  induced  him  to  go  there.  He 
kept  about  his  duties,  and  that  evening  they  took  him 
to  a  patient  whose  house  he  left  quite  late.  Never 
caring  for  style  or  special  comfort,  he  started  for  home 
in  a  street  car.  Opposite  to  him  were  two  young 
men,  whose  conversation  soon  convinced  him  that  they 
had  been  to  see  Mrs.  Johnson's  debut.  They  were  in 
gay  spirits  and  disposed  to  consider  the  performance 
very  amusing.  f 

"  Of  course  she  can't  play"  said  one,  "  but  it  was  a 
liberal  education  just  to  see  her  legs  !  I  shall  dreara 
of  them  for  a  month.  Wonder  if  I  could  buy  a  ticket 
for  to-morrow  night  at  any  price." 

"  Legs  !"  cried  the  other.  "  They  are  all  right,  but 
after  she  nursed  the  asp,  I  forget  everything  but  that ! 
Stanhope  is  a  lucky  fellow  !  I  thought  the  crowd  ir 
the  street  would  never  let  their  carriage  pass.  She's 
been  living  with  him  as  his  wife  ever  since  she  left  her 
husband,  you  know." 

Elton  chafed  horribly  at  every  word,  but  until  the 
end  he  felt  he  had  no  right  to  interfere.  At  the  closing 
sentence  he  sprang  upon  the  two  young  men  with  the 
ferocity  of  a  tiger.  He  caught  them  by  their  collan 
before  they  could  speak,  and  struck  their  heads  violent- 
ly  together. 

"  How  dare  you  speak  in  that  way,  sir,  of  a  lady 
whom  you  do  not  know  !"  he  vociferated  to  the  author 
of  the  objectionable  phrase.  "  And  how  dare  you  listen 
to  him  !"  he  cried  to  the  other,  in  still  louder  tone*. 


SO 

He  had  them  still  by  the  collars,  and  was  rapidly 
reducing  them  to  a  demoralized  condition,  when  the 
conductor  of  the  car,  who  knew  him  by  name  and 
reputation,  interfered. 

"  Let  them  go,  Dr.  Elton,"  he  said,  in  a  mollifying 
way.  "  They  were  a  little  thoughtless,  that's  all." 

Elton  dropped  them  instantly.  He  had  not  realized 
what  he  was  doing.  The  young  men  edged  their  way 
to  the  platform  and,  as  they  left  the  car,  one  of  them 
called  out,  "  We'll  have  you  in  court  for  this  !"  The 
folly  of  his  action  occurred  to  him  then  for  the  first 
time.  He  was  heated  and  out  of  humor  and  soon  he 
also  left  the  car  and  walked  home. 

The  next  morning  he  was  served  with  a  warrant, 
and  the  day  after  that  he  rose  in  the  police  court  when 
his  name  was  called.  It  struck  him  that  there  was  an 
unusually  large  number  of  people  present.  English 
&  Co.  had  not  failed  to  avail  themselves  of  the  adver- 
tisement, and  every  morning  paper — though  Elton  did 
not  know  it  then — contained  a  story  in  relation  to  the 
street  car  affair,  more  or  less  sensational. 

He  had  no  lawyer  and  made  no  defense. 

"  I  am  guilty  as  charged,"  he  said  to  the  judge. 
When  his  fine  was  named  he  paid  it  and  walked  away. 
It  was  not  much  of  a  sensation,  after  all,  and  the 
crowd  felt  swindled.  However,  they  had  seen  him, 
and  as  they  departed,  the  Johnson  scandal  was  rolled 
under  their  tongues  in  the  hope  of  extracting  another 
drop  of  sweetness  from  that  well-worn  morsel. 

Mrs  John  Smith  Johnson  finished  her  six  nights  in 
New  York  and  the  net  receipts  of  her  managers  were 
double  the  sum  they  were  to  pay  her.  The  advance 
Bales  at  Boston  were  reported  enormous.  The  Har- 
vard student*  took  a  dozen  rows  where  they  could  sti 


864 

together  and  see  the  little  Cambridge  girl  who  had 
figured  so  largely  in  the  newspapers  in  connection 
with  one  of  their  alumni. 

She  was  to  take  the  eleven  o'clock  train  for  the 
Hub  on  Monday  morning,  but,  to  the  consternation  of 
English  &  Co.,  Lieutenant  Stanhope  came  to  the 
Grand  Central  station  without  her,  and  bearing  in  her 
place  the  following  note  : 

"  DEAR  FRED  : 

"  I  have  borne  all  I  can.  For  the  sake  of  humiliat- 
ing  one  man  I  have  endured  the  past  six  nights  in 
this  city.  At  and  near  Boston  live  many  of  the  old 
acquaintances  of  my  family  and  I  cannot  expose  my- 
self before  them.  There  is  no  object  in  it.  Tell 
English  &  Co.  they  owe  me  nothing.  It  will  be  a 
waste  of  time  to  search  for  me,  as  even  if  found  I  shall 
not  return. 

"  CORA." 

English  &  Co.  were  in  a  pretty  state  of  mind 
when  tkey  read  this  epistle.  At  first  they  thought  it 
some  trick  of  Stanhope's,  bu'.  when  they  viewed  the 
hollow-eyed  and  unkempt  appearance  of  the  officer, 
they  dropped  that  theory  at  once.  The  Boston  public, 
when  they  heard  of  it,  imagined  a  trick  was  being  put 
upon  them  to  increase  the  price  of  admission  and  pro- 
tested loudly.  All  they  could  get  at  the  box  office,  how- 
ever, in  response  to  their  mutterings,  was  the  return 
of  their  money.  Cora  could  not  be  found. 

A  few  days  later  a  fellow  whom  Claude  knew 
•lightly  broke  in  on  his  dinner  at  *he  Hoffman  House 
in  this  wise  : 

"Say,  Wyllis,  did  you  hear  about  old 


or  un  AITS  SKATS.  SU 

the  husband  of  that  pretty  '  Cleopatra '  who  has  dis- 
appeared ?  They  found  him  dead  in  his  bed  at  horn* 
this  morning,  of  apoplexy.  Yes,  sir,  dead  as  a  smelt  !* 


CHAPTER    XXXIX. 

IN  LIFE  AND    DEATH. 

When  Mr.  Johnson's  associates  opened  his  private 
papers  they  found  a  will,  dated  a  short  time  after  the 
birth  of  his  son,  leaving  to  his  "  dearly  beloved  wife, 
Cora  Madison  Johnson,"  the  sum  of  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  and  all  the  rest  of  his  estate, — 
except  fifteen  thousand  dollars,  especially  set 
aside  for  Mrs.  Ashleigh — to  the  child.  In  case  o! 
Willie's  death,  his  part  also  was  to  go  to  the  mother. 
During  the  troubles  which  preceded  his  decease,  Mr. 
Johnson  hao  made  no  alteration  in  this  disposal  of 
his  estate.  That  he  meant  to  do  so  can  hardly  be 
doubted.  While  sueing  for  a  divorce  from  the  wife  he 
believed  unfaithful,  he  could  not  have  intended  to  leave 
her  the  fortune  she  would  thus  forfeit.  Be  that  as  it 
may,  the  will  stood  as  stated  ;  and  the  strangest  thing 
in  it  was  that  Mr.  Claude  Wyllis  was  named  as  execu- 
tor. 

When  informed  of  the  duties  thus  thrust  upon  him, 
Claude  was  at  first  disposed  to  Decline,  and  ask  ths 
court  to  appoint  some  person  in  his  stead.  He  had 
•ever  even  attended  to  his  own  business,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  undertaking  that  of  others.  But,  on  considera- 
tion, hf  changed  his  mind.  He  felt  that  be  had  led  a 


•56  nr  Lim  un>  DEATH. 

rather  useless  life,  thus  far,  and  he  wanted  something 
to  keep  him  busy.  Then,  most  of  his  own  estate  had 
oeen  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Johnson,  and  he  could  not 
think  of  another  person  in  whom  he  would  have  equal 
confidence.  So  he  accepted  the  trust,  filed  his  bond 
and.  with  the  valuable  help  of  the  office  clerks,  found 
it.  much  easier  than  he  anticipated.  Mr.  Johnson  was 
a  methodical  man,  as  well  as  a  thoroughly  honest  one. 
The  large  interests  he  had  managed,  both  for  himself 
and  his  clients,  were  conducted  on  the  most  careful 
principles,  and  every  transaction  showed'plainly  on  his 
books.  The  executor  was  charmed  to  find  everything 
in  such  perfect  order. 

The  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to  find  Cora,  if 
possible.  The  wife's  disappearance  had  been  com- 
plete. No  news  of  her  had  been  heard  since  the  morn- 
ing she  left  that  note  to  be  delivered  to  Stanhope. 
Claude  consulted  a  well-known  firm  of  detectives  and 
left  the  case  in  their  hands.  The  men  detailed  upon 
the  job  had  long  talks  with  him,  with  Dr.  Elton,  with 
Stanhope,  and  with  others  who  knew  her.  The  lieu- 
tenant was  as  anxious  as  the  rest.  His  infatuation  had 
much  abated  after  her  cold  treatment,  but  he  retained 
it  great  liking  for  her  still.  He  dreaded  to  think  harm 
ha  J  happened  to  her,  for  which  he  might  be  in  a  sense 
responsible.  The  detectives  worked  for  weeks,  but 
were  obliged  to  admit  tkat  they  could  not  get  the 
ilightest  clue.  If  Cora  had  sunk  in  the  earth  sh* 
could  not  have  more  effectually  baffled  their  en- 
deavors. 

Advertisements  were  tned,  with  no  better  success. 
ft  occurred  to  Claude  that  if  she  could  know  her  hus- 
band was  dead  she  might  return  or  send  some  intima- 
tion of  her  whereabouts.  He  even — though  with  sora* 


Of  LOT  AMD  DKATBL  Ml 

compunctions  of  conscience — appealed  to  the  another* 
love  which  he  believed  she  must  still  have,  by  saying, 
in  one  of  the  announcements,  "  If  she  wishes  to  see  her 
rhild  she  should  delay  no  longer."  Nothing  availed. 

The  will  was  probated  without  opposition.  Mn. 
Ashleigh  had  been  too  submissive  to  her  brother's  de» 
sires  in  life,  to  think  of  opposing  his  testament.  Ac- 
cording to  ordinary  law  the  child  would  inherit  every- 
thing, if  the  will  were  set  aside,  so  she  had  nothing  to 
gain.  The  divorce  suit  was,  of  course,  striken  from 
the  docket,  and  at  the  end  of  a  few  months  the  execu- 
tor found  himself  with  one  hundred  thousand  dollars 
in  his  hands  for  Mrs.  Johnson,  and  more  than  twice 
that  sum  for  Master  William  Johnson,  aged  two. 

Master  William  throve  well  and  seemed  destined  to 
achieve  the  legal  age  when  he  would  come  into  posses- 
sion of  his  property.  Mrs.  Wyllis  returned  from 
Europe,  leaving  Lulu  at  Milan,  and  after  due  consid- 
eration, took  the  young  Johnson  into  her  own  fa.nily 
along  with  his  retinue.  If  Claude  was  to  be  his 
guardian — which  the  court  had  decided — Belle  thought 
she  ought  to  have  a  hand  in  his  bringing  up. 

"  I  know  more  about  young  gentlemen  than  you 
do,"  she  remarked,  laughingly,  to  her  husband,  "  and 
I  am  not  going  to  have  this  one  spoiled.  Beside,  he  ii 
all  that  is  left  of  my  darling  Cora,  and  I  love  him  for 
his  mother's  sake.  If  she  ever  returns,  I  shall  be  able 
to  say  I  did  what  I  could  for  her  baby,  But  where 
can  she  be  ?" 

Another  charge  which  seemed  naturally  to  fall 
upon  the  Wyllis  family  was  Miss  Jessie,  still  at  Vassar, 
and  Claude  took  a  trip  up  there  one  day  to  see  her. 
She  had  been  informed  of  her  sister's  disappearance 
uxd  of  the  measures  taken  to  find  her,  as  well  as  of 


ill  or  un  AJTJJ  DXATM. 

their  non-success.  Claude  found  he  mischievous 
child,  which  he  remembered  so  well,  developed  into  a 
grave  young  lady,  with  a  saddened  mien,  who  seemed 
to  feel  with  crushing  effect  the  disgrace  that  had 
visited  her  family.  Claude  told  her  of  the  conditions 
of  the  will  and  conveyed,  as  gently  as  possible,  the 
fact  that  if  Cora  should  never  be  found,  the  money 
willed  to  her  would  become  the  property  of  her  sister, 
as  next  of  kin. 

"  I  could  not  touch  it !"  responded  Jessie,  flushing. 
"When  I  graduate  from  here  in  the  spring,  I  shall 
obtain  a  school.  If  you  or  Mrs.  Wyllis  will  kindly 
supply  the  small  sum  I  shall  need  until  then,  I  will 
repay  you  later.  I  have  no  other  wants." 

"  But  you  will  not  refuse  that  legacy  if  it  comes  to 
you  honestly  and  legally  !"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  I  shall.  Let  Cora  take  it  if  she  will,  when 
she  comes  back,  but  if  it  should  be  offered  to  me,  1 
could  not.  Do  not  misunderstand  me,  please.  1 
believe — I  am  sure  of  the  perfect  purity  of  my 
unhappy  and  misguided  sister — that  she  could  accept 
it  with  clean  hands.  They  broke  her  heart  amongst 
them.  I  remember  too  well.  It  was  scandalous  !  I 
was  a  child,  but  I  knew  it  all  and  could  do  nothing 
to  prevent  it.  I  trust  you  will  find  Cora,  and  I  hope 
she  will  take  the  money  if  she  wants  it.  For  myself, 
I  never  liked  Mr.  Johnson,  and  he  owed  me  nothing." 

Winter  passed  away,  with  not  a  clew  to  Cora. 
When  Jessie's  term  expired,  she  came  to  stay  a  while 
with  the  Wyllises,  and  all  of  them  went  to  Newport 
to  spend  the  heated  term.  Jessie  was  very  anxious  to 
secure  a  situation,  but  they  persuaded  her  to  mak« 
them  a  good  long  visit  first.  Then,  when  auUma 
came,  Claude  suggested  a  plan. 


V  Un  AMD  HEA.TM.  tft 

"Willie  is  three  years  old,"  he  said,  "and  I  must 
Men  get  him  a  governess.  He  is  a  wealthy  young 
man  and  can  afford  to  pay  well  for  a  first-class  one, 
Jessie,  let  me  offer  you  the  place.  If  Cora  ever 
returns,  she  will  be  glad  her  boy  had  such  a  teacher, 
and  it  will  relieve  both  Belle  and  myself  to  have  him 
under  such  excellent  influence." 

She  tried  to  laugh  it  off  at  first,  as  an  absurdity, 
but  Belle  joined  her  persuasions  to  her  husband's. 

"  I  have  undertaken  a  great  care,"  she  said,  "  greater 
than  I  supposed.  Unless  you  can  help  me  out  I  shall 
be  confined  more  than  I  feel  able  to  be,  for  there  are 
few  persons  I  would  trust  Willie  with.  It  will  be  a 
great  favor  if  you  can  decide  to  accept" 

Finally  Jessie  agreed  to  try  it  for  the  present,  or 
until  some  more  suitable  opening  offered  for  her  tal- 
ents. The  result  was  that  in  a  short  time  she  became 
to  attached  to  the  boy  she  could  not  bear  to  think  of 
leaving  him. 

He  gave  the  title  "  Mamma  "  to  her  and  Belle  indis- 
criminately, and  seemed  to  love  one  as  well  as  the  other. 
The  little  fellow  became  the  delight  of  the  household 
and  his  slightest  ailment  threw  all  alike  into  the  extrem- 
ity of  terror. 

"  If  Cora  should  come  now,"  Jessie  said,  one  day, 
"  I  don't  see  how  I  could  give  Willie  up  to  her." 

Claude  smiled  significantly  to  his  wife.  What  a 
domestic  couple  they  had  become,  to  be  sure !  He 
had  never  felt  such  content  as  he  did  now  in  his  cwn 
home. 

He  did  not  forget  Lulu.  He  and  Belle  spoke  of 
the  singer  almost  daily,  and  both  ot  them  still  corres- 
ponded with  her.  They  anticipated  with  almost  equal 
pleasure  the  day  when  she  should  come  to  America 


and  win  plaudits  on  the  operatic  stage  of  her  natlva 
land.  Claude  did  not  wish  to  blot  from  his  memory 
the  months,  hp  had  passed  with  her,  but  he  knew  no 
temptation  could  induce  him  to  live  them  over  again, 
Kis  wife  had  completely  won  his  heart  when,  in  that 
Berlin  hospital,  she  stooped  to  kiss  the  almost  dying 
girl  and  soothed  her  distress  with  the  kindest  expres- 
sions. Lulu  had  been  as  quick  to  feel  it  as  he.  Their 
passionate  love  had  left  its  impress  on  them  both,  but 
they  had  risen  stronger  and  wiser  from  its  ashes.  An 
Italian  duke  had  recently  asked  Miss  Bornstein  for  her 
hand — a  duke  whose  patronage  of  music  made  him 
known  on  two  continents  and  whose  personal  worth 
was  beyond  question.  Claude  had  advised  her  to 
accept  him  and  the  engagement  was  already  an- 
nounced. 

"  I  never  can  forget,"  Claude  wrote  to  her,  "  those 
hours  of  elysium  that  you  and  I  passed  together, 
when,  having  eaten  of  the  '  insane  drug  which  takes 
the  reason  prisoner,'  we  trod  on  ether  and  saw  no 
cloud  !  Nor  can  I  forget  how  near  we  came  to  death 
and  that  I  took  upon  my  soul  an  untruthful  oath  to 
save  your  reputation,  which  I  had  jeopardized.  You 
made  it  easy  for  me  to  return  to  the  path  of  virtue. 
God  bless  you  for  it !  If  is  well  now  that  you  should 
tnarry.  You  may  find  peace  on  your  husband's  heart, 
«s  I  have  found  it  on  that  of  my  wife." 

And  Lulu  wrote : 

"  I  cannot  love  the  duke  as  I  loved  you,  though  he  U 
deserving  of  the  best  woman  in  the  world,  but  I  will 
at  least  make  him  a  true  consort,  and  find  in  my  An, 
as  I  have  ever  done  since  you  left  me,  my  truest  inspi- 
ration. Ki?s  your  dear  wife  for  me,  and  when  you 
hold  her  in  your  arms,  remember  sometimes  the  little 


nr  un  JJR>  nun.  Stl 

woman  whose  affection  she  won  when  she  *hrew  thai 
radiant  smile  from  the  box  at  the  Berlin  opera." 

Dr.  Elton's  professorship  in  the  New  York  Medical 
College  came  to  him,  notwithstanding  the  gossip 
which  connected  his  name  with  that  of  Mrs.  Johnson 
in  so  many  sensational  newspaper  paragraphs.  The 
college  authorities  probed  the  matter  to  the  bottom 
and  unanimously  decided  his  conduct  worthy  of  the 
highest  praise.  His  eminent  skill  as  a  surgeon  wa* 
wanted  in  the  classes,  and  while  there  was  no  direct 
pecuniary  advantage  to  be  gained  by  taking  time  so 
valuable  in  his  practice,  Elton  had  the  student's  love 
for  investigation,  which  made  him  willing  to  spend 
several  hours  a  week  in  the  college,  explaining  the 
mysteries  of  the  human  frame  to  the  students.  He 
was  as  familiar  with  anatomy  as  a  good  watchmaker 
is  with  a  fine  timepiece.  Every  week  he  gave  exhibi- 
tions and  lectures  from  both  living  and  dead  "  sub- 
jects." In  the  former  case  he  showed  equal  skill  in 
applying  the  ether,  making  the  delicate  incisions  with 
his  lancet,  stopping  the  flowage  of  blood  and  bandag- 
ing the  wounded  places.  There  was  no  indecision  in 
his  manner,  no  hesitation  in  his  touch.  He  was  com- 
pletely master  of  his  profession  and  the  elderly  physi- 
cians who  called  in  marvelled  at  the  celerity  and  accu- 
racy of  his  work. 

His  dissections  of  dead  "  subjects "  were  often 
attended  by  throngs  which  taxed  the  capacity  of  the 
operating  room.  This  work,  which  is  so  apt  to  horrify 
the  casual  observer,  was  a  source  of  real  pleasure  to 
him.  He  knew  that  nothing  in  all  nature  has  such  a 
wonderful  mechanism  as  the  human  frame.  To 
explain  its  intricacies  and  expose  its  motive  force* 


MS  or  XJR  AMD  BZAXX. 

teemed  to  him  worthy  the  deepest  study  of  the 

est  minds. 

One  day  he  received  word  that  a  special  lessca 
was  requested  for  that  evening,  as  a  "  subject "  of 
anusual  excellence  had  been  obtained.  He  accord* 
ingly  went  very  early  to  the  college  and  made  his  way 
alone  to  the  dissecting  room.  On  the  wooden  table 
lay  the  body  to  be  carved,  covered  with  a  white  sheet. 
With  that  quickened  pulse  which  a  true  student  must 
always  feel  on  such  an  occasion,  Dr.  Elton  grasped  the 
sheet  and  drew  it  down,  so  that  he  could  look  at  the 
face. 

Good  God!  what  a  scream  ! 

He  sprang  to  the  door  he  had  just  entered.  The 
janitor  had  heard  the  cry  and  came  running  to  ascer- 
tain its  cause.  He  saw  the  doctor's  livid  countenance 
and  heard  his  shaking  voice  say,  "  No,  I  want  nothing." 
Then  he  heard  him  lock  the  door. 

Yes,  it  was  CORA  !  Dead,  as  his  quick  eye  told 
him,  from  an  overdose  of  opium,  taken  purposely  or 
accidentally,  who  could  tell  ? 

It  was  a  hour  before  he  could  compose  himsill 
enough  to  write  two  notes.  One  was  to  say  there 
would  be  no  lecture  that  evening.  The  other  was  to 
Wyllis,  telling  him  of  his  discovery  and  asking  him  to 
.bring  an  undertaker  and  his  female  assistants. 

Then  he  returned  to  the  body. 

"  I  can  kiss  you  now,  darling  !"  he  whispered,  "  and 
violate  no  law,  human  or  divine!" 

His  lips  touched  the  cold  forehead.  Then  he  knell 
by  her  side. 

"Oh,  Christ !  be  merciful  to  her/'  he  prayed,  "for 
«he  has  suffered  much  I" 


CHAPTER  XL. 

BEHIND    THE    PORTI1XIS. 

Let  U3  pass  over  three  years  and  bring  our  story 
down  to  the  present  date. 

Dr.  Elton  still  practises  medicine,  at  his  office  near 
Madison  Square.  His  fame  has  grown  with  every 
hour,  until  no  physician  in  the  American  metropolis 
commands  a  finer  patronage  or  larger  fees.  His  resi- 
dence is  now  on  Fifth  Avenue,  in  its  most  fashionable 
quarter,  and  nothing  that  wealth  and  taste  can  suggest 
is  absent  from  iy.s  furnishings.  As  he  alights  from  his 
carriage  at  the  door,  let  us  follow  him  up  the  steps. 
Let  us  forget  politeness  for  the  time  and  steal  into  the 
large  hall  after  him.  Hiding  behind  the  ample  por- 
tieres of  the  reception  room  we  shall  see  an  unaccus- 
tomed sight.  A  beautiful  woman  of  twenty  comes  to 
meet  the  doctor.  Her  rounded  arms  are  about  his 
neck  and  her  warm  kiss  is  on  his  lips.  He  returns  the 
embrace,  gazing  down  upon  the  lovely  creature  with 
devoted  admiration. 

Have  we  not  seen  the  pretty  lady  before  ?  Yes, 
many  times.  And  what  are  you  doing  here,  Miss  Jessie 
Madison  ? 

She  is  Jessie  Madison  no  longer,  but  Jessie  Elton. 
For  two  years  she  has  been  Jack's  wife — the  Jack 
Elton  in  whose  lap  she  used  lo  sit,  tern  years  ago,  and 
call  her  "  big  brother.'  She  loved  him  then  for  Cora's 
sake,  and  often  recalls  how  she  tried  to  make  him  take 
her  sister  even  after  the  wedding  ring  was  on  he* 
hand.  Ignorant  little  child !  How  awful  that  sag- 


gestion  seems  to  her,  now  that  her  advancing  years 
have  taught  her  its  full  significance  !  She  sees  herself 
standing  there,  calling  after  him,  "  Remember,  I  hatt 
you  !"  and  he,  firm  in  his  fealty  to  right,  even  thougk 
it  rends  his  heart,  stalking  away  from  her.  Dear  Jack  I 
how  could  she  ever  have  scolded  him  ! 

It  came  about  very  naturally.  Elton  met  h*»~  at 
Cora's  quiet  funeral.  She  put  her  hand  in  his,  impul- 
sively, as  they  stood  with  streaming  eyes  about  the 
casket.  He  called  afterwards  upon  the  Wyllises  and 
met  her  there.  The  childhood's  estrangement  found 
no  place  in  their  conversation.  From  that  time  on  he 
was  called  occasionally  to  attend  little  Willie  for  infan- 
tile derangements.  Ten  months  after  Cora's  death,  he 
opened  his  mind  to  her. 

"  Jessie,"  he  said,  "  love  for  the  dear  one  who  has 
gone  would  have  kept  me  from  marriage  as  long  as 
she  lived,  but  I  think  if  she  could  look  down  on  us 
now,  she  would  second  the  proposal  I  am  about  to 
make  to  you.  I  want  you  to  be  my  wife." 

She  refused  at  first. 

"Oh,  Jack,"  she  said,  "you  have  endured  enough 
through  my  family  already  !  Let  us  continue  to  be 
brother  and  sister,  as  we  are  now.  I  have  loved  you 
in  that  way  so  many  years— yes,  even  after  that  night 
when  I  spoke  so  crossly  to  you — that  any  other  rela- 
tion seems  impossible  !" 

He  put  his  strong  arm  about  her. 

**  I  want  a  wife,  Jessie.  I  want  a  home.  I  want  yr*. 
Think  of  it." 

She  did  think  of  it.  The  result  was  that  three 
months  latter  she  joined  her  life  to  his,  and  che  has 
•ever  regretted  the  step. 

But  what  is  this— a  baby  !    Mrs.   Eltoa  receives  it 


JJUOBD  TB1  POXOBCBL  8f§ 

from  its  nurse's  arms,  and  the  doctor  watches  her 
proudly.  What  has  Jessie  Elton  to  do  with  babies  f 
It  is  lucky  she  does  not  see  us  hiding  behind  the  por- 
tiere, as  she  places  it  to  her  breast.  Dr.  Elton  looks 
on  entranced,  but  he  is  privileged  to  look.  The  storm 
clouds  that  for  so  long  filled  his  sky  seem  to  have  van- 
ished. Kind  nature  spreads  her  vines  and  fig  trees 
even  over  graves.  The  young  physician  is  a  happy 
man. 

Where  are  the  Wyllises  ?  Why,  next  door  !  Only 
a  party-wall  separates  the  families.  Claude  has 
grown  daily  more  attached  to  that  wonderful  woman, 
his  wife.  He  thinks  there  is  nothing  so  delightful  in 
the  world,  with  possibly  one  exception — a  little  tot, 
who  creeps  over  his  floors  and  calls  him  "Papa." 
What — a  baby  here,  too  !  Yes,  the  sweetest  little  girl 
you  ever  saw,  a  miniature  image  of  her  handsome 
mother.  They  have  named  her  "  Cora  Lulu,"  and 
wonder  how  they  ever  considered  the  house  complete 
before  she  came. 

Master  Willie  belongs  to  both  families.  He  is  six 
years  old  now,  and  seems  to  love  "  Mamma  Jessie " 
and  "  Mamma  Belle "  with  indiscriminate  fondness. 
He  looks  wonderfully  like  Cora  and,  as  a  conse- 
quence, gets  petted  more  than  is  good  for  him.  But 
he  has  a  sunny  disposition  and  will  grow  up  to  be  a 
fine  man  yet. 

The  Duchesse  di  Alpena,  ntc  Bornstein,  has  visited 
America  twice  and  been  accorded  great  ovations  as 
the  prima  donna  of  the  leading  Italian  opera  company. 
Her  husband,  a  scholarly-looking  gentleman,  whom 
she  likes  extremely  well,  accompanied  her.  When  in 
New  York,  they  stayed  at  the  Wyllis  mansion,  as  Mrs, 
Wyllis  would  not  hear  a  word  of  any  other  plan, 
The  duke  and  Claude  are  attached  friemds.  If  His 


Grace  suspects  there  was  anything  peculiar  in  the  fonntf 
relations  of  his  wife  and  Wyllis,  he  has  the  wisdom  to 
say  nothing.  Some  things  are  best  forgotten. 

The  last  time  they  were  there,  Belle,  with  new- 
found jealousy,  though  of  a  very  mild  type,  appealed 
tc  her  husband  one  evening,  when  she  had  him  alone: 

"  You  love  na  one  but  me  now,  Claude  ?" 

"  Except  Cora  Lulu,"  he  answered,  indicating  that 
young  lady  *  • 

"  Oh,  of  course,  except  her,"  she  assented,  witfc  4 
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